


All The Pretty Things That We Could Be

by Yellow_Bird_On_Richland



Series: and i would give the world to know that i will always find you (the Twylexis AU collection) [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: But they're kind of idiots when it comes to each other, Competent and supportive wlw, F/F, Long-Distance Friendship, Mutual Pining, S6E13 follow up, Slight fluff, Twyla taking that trip Alexis mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 63,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23764057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellow_Bird_On_Richland/pseuds/Yellow_Bird_On_Richland
Summary: Alexis fiddled with her hair and asked haltingly, “I don’t mean to tell you how to spend your money, but maybe you could use some of it to come visit me?”Twyla shut her eyes for a second, as if she was debating what to wish for before blowing out the candles on a birthday cake, and Alexis felt her breath catch for a fraction of a beat at the blazing brightness of Twy’s smile. “I’d like that.”
Relationships: Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: and i would give the world to know that i will always find you (the Twylexis AU collection) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073303
Comments: 36
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this chapter and the story as a whole so far expanded significantly beyond what I expected to write, but I'm gonna roll with it. Hope I do these two wonderful, funny, bright, and caring ladies justice.

_Alexis fiddled with her hair and asked haltingly, “I don’t mean to tell you how to spend your money, but maybe you could use some of it to come visit me?”_

_Twyla shut her eyes for a second, as if she was debating what to wish for before blowing out the candles on a birthday cake, and Alexis felt her breath catch for a fraction of a beat at the blazing brightness of Twy’s smile. “I’d like that.”_

**

That conversation still resonates with Alexis, surprisingly, almost 10 months after it took place, even though her life in NYC is a mostly enjoyable whirlwind.

Working at Interflix is more of an 8-6 than a 9-5 some days, but she’s managed to make a bit of time for building the Alexis Rose Communications empire, as well. She’d just inked a contract with Doggone Good Dogs, a high-end dog boutique on the Upper East Side, to help them promote their all-natural, whole grain food.

 _Because_ , she texted her Schitt’s Creek WhatsApp group chat with the update, _if there’s one thing I learned from chilling with the Prince of Dubai’s nine beloved French poodles when I was 16, it’s that Kibble won’t cut it for a lot of fancy canines._

Ted: _Way to go! I bet the bark-up on their treats is sky high._

Stevie: _I don’t think anyone would ever need a fancy dog store like that, but_ _New Yorkers are a different breed I guess. And are there any foreign princes out there you haven’t met?_

Stevie: _Dammit that “breed” pun was unintentional. I blame Ted. Ps congrats, keep moving on up in the world._

David: _Patrick and I say congrats too! And, Ted…must the puns always be made?_

Twyla: _Congratulations, Alexis, that’s great! I’m so proud of you._

Alexis doesn’t remember how exactly the group chat started, but it’s been a nice way for her favorite people from all over the globe to stay in contact. They don’t talk all the time, but there’s usually updates at least every two or three weeks about their respective jobs, funny stories, or a combination of the two, like Stevie’s blow-by-blow account of how Roland tried to haggle with a vending machine stocker at a new Rosebud Motel location in Ohio to buy a bulk case of 100 Grand candy bars.

While she chatted with David and, by extension, Patrick, a lot, Alexis had been sort of surprised to find herself texting and Snapchatting with Twyla on at least a weekly basis. Even from afar, she’d been a hell of a cheerleader and helped Alexis get through a few regrettable Tinder dates that harkened back too much to her old days (though nothing as bad as attending a crew regatta at Harvard in the middle of a thunderstorm in March, thankfully. In retrospect, her 20 year old self should have known better than to trust Chet Hanks to arrange a suitable date). In return, Alexis had applied her marketing and PR acumen to help the café grow under Twyla’s watchful ownership. Even though it wasn't about the money for Twyla, Alexis still wanted to help her make the café successful as it can be. They’d made some promising in-roads with Elmdale College students recently. Alexis had brokered a partnership with Food 2 U for late night meal deliveries, mostly to folks near the college—go figure, drunk college kids go bananas for mozzarella sticks, chicken fingers, and similar diner fare—but also to the occasional town parties, as well. Additionally, she'd helped Twyla create a weekend collegiate discount with extended brunch hours, so the college kids recovering from the night before become repeat customers.

And she doesn’t really stop to consider what all the texts, Snapchats, and FaceTimes that she and Twyla share mean until one mid-July evening when they’re watching a Bon Appetit test kitchen video together with a Google Hangout video chat open. It’s become a semi-regular thing for them, when their schedules allow.

“That episode was hysterical. I still cannot believe Brad thought an avocado was a mango,” Twyla laughed. “I mean, I can, because he’s a bit of a doofus, but still.”

“Speaking as someone who’s still not exactly in her element in the kitchen, I can relate with his slip-up,” Alexis commented.

“Hey, you’re still learning. And that eggplant parm you made the other night looked fabulous.”

“Twy, you are the sweetest, babe. And actually, it _was_ pretty good. The pasta was a bit too noodle-y, though, like starting to deform from al dente to mush.”

“Getting the timing down on cooking pasta is tricky, especially when you’re also working on other parts of a meal,” Twyla commented. “Maybe…” she paused.

“Maybe what, Twy?” Alexis asked.

“I was gonna say maybe when I come visit you, I could help you try cooking a new dish or two, or give you some pointers on ones you’re already more comfortable or confident making.” She paused again, frowning slightly. “If that invitation is still open, of course, I don’t want to assume, and I totally understand if you’re too busy with Interflix and your new friends and everything,” Twyla added hurriedly.

Alexis waved her hand at her computer screen as if doing so could make Twyla’s anxiety dissipate. “Of course I’d love to have you come visit, Twy! Just let me pull up my calendar.” She unlocked and swiped through her phone. “Ok, so the rest of July and most of August are pretty busy for me, plus it’s disgustingly humid here anyway and just…ew.” Twyla laughs at that and there’s a lightness to it—almost a musical note—that comes out when she’s truly happy or comfortable, not like when she’s using her customer service laugh, and Alexis loves hearing the real thing. “It’s not good weather for showing you around. Have you been to New York City before?”

“No, but I have a feeling you’ll make a great host.”

“I don’t mean to brag, but yes, absolutely,” Alexis nodded. “I worked as a tour guide in Honduras for a bit until America did its thing and barged in with a coup. And then it was like, alright, the Mayan ruins and colonial townhouses are great sights, but I’m not trying to get executed by some overzealous hothead with a machine gun, so I bailed. Ok, how is, um, Labor Day weekend? Does that work for you?”

“That would be great! We obviously have off that Monday and I’m giving everyone an extra paid day off on Tuesday as a little thank you since we’ve all worked so many holidays and logged plenty of overtime over the years. I can’t wait to see you!” Twyla answered.

Alexis clapped and tried to resist squealing, but settled on “Yay! Okay, I’ll text or email you some flight deets before I go to bed tonight. And Twyla?”

“Mmhmm?”

Alexis grinned. “I can’t wait to see you, either.”

True to her word, Alexis typed out a travel itinerary just after she finished her nightly skincare routine.

_Hey Twy, again, I’m so stoked that you’ll be here in a couple months! For ease of travel, I’d recommend flying into JFK, if you can. It’s a bit further away from Brooklyn than LaGuardia, but the construction there is a mess and you might be able to get a flight in during non-peak hours at JFK that Friday before Labor Day weekend. Plus the public transportation options there are way better._

She frowned, fingers hovering over her phone’s keyboard.

 _“Would it seem weird if I told Twyla I’d meet her at the airport, like I don’t think that she can handle herself in NYC? Or would it be rude to not offer?”_ Alexis thought. After a bit of deliberation, she continued her text message.

_I know it’s not for a while, but could you let me know by like the middle of next month if you’d want me to meet/pick you up at the airport? Not that I don’t think you could, like, navigate your way here on your own, of course, since you’re smart and capable, but NYC can be a lot to deal with on a good day, let alone on a holiday weekend and…well, I’m blabbering now, lol. Oh, and my address is 394 Quincy Street, Brooklyn, NY 11216 if you wanna Google Map or Waze how to get here from either airport. Sorry for the wall of text so late. Lemme know if you have any questions!_

Her phone buzzed a few minutes later with a response.

_Hey, thanks for all this info, Alexis. I’ll let you know about picking me up after I have a chance to look over travel options, and you definitely weren’t blabbering. I really appreciate that you’re such a thoughtful best friend. Catch up with you tomorrow!_

Alexis skimmed over Twyla’s message—it was more or less what she’d expected—but her eyes stayed glued to the third sentence.

She hadn’t heard anyone call her their best friend since maybe second grade, when playing on the swings and the monkey bars with Jess Tarrioli for a week at recess was enough to earn that designation. Sure, she’s had “besties” and “bitches,” but most of the girls she was “friends” with before her family went broke just used each other for drugs, connections to fashion shows, access to private yachts, etc. They were all like Tom and Daisy from _The Great Gatsby_ —Alexis smiled as she made the simile in her head; she should email Jocelyn that she remembered the book—smashing up empty bottles of Tattingers Brut la Champagne indiscriminately, leaving last season’s or last week’s Louboutins in Jacuzzis, and then jetting off to get drunk or high somewhere else that weekend while underpaid and overworked resort staff members cleaned up the damage. She’s glad to no longer be that ungrateful, self-centered brat, and even more grateful she met a community of people who built her family up instead of tearing them all down when they were at their lowest. Twyla will always be her favorite person from Schitt’s Creek, though, and Alexis felt a bit of warmth inside her chest that had nothing to do with the 73° temperature outside as she replied to her last text.

_Sounds good, Twy. P.S. A lot of what I learned about being thoughtful comes from you, so I’d like to return that compliment._

Alexis drifted off to sleep fairly quickly, smiling softly at a couple of ideas for what sort of tourist activities she and Twyla could enjoy together.

**

Alexis was glad to have Twyla's visit to look forward to during the start of August since she was part of a marketing team for _Break the Safe_ , a quirky comedy about middle-aged bank robbers that ended up warranting more attention than Interflix had initially anticipated. Obviously, better for everyone in the company to have a hit movie than a dud, but Alexis found herself pretty drained from working overtime—she’d thought ushering Moira into the 24/7 social media era was challenging, but trying to surreptitiously and authentically manage the Facebook and Twitter accounts of four fairly nondescript men and women in their late 40s without getting "Ok boomer"'d into online oblivion was taking a lot out of her. She had declined an invite to a work happy hour one Friday night in the middle of August and was rummaging around her kitchen for the ingredients to make a shrimp stir fry sauce around 6:00 P.M. when her phone buzzed with a text from Twyla.

_Hey, would you have some time to chat so I could fill you in about my flight info for the trip since it’s coming up in a few weeks?_

Alexis texted back, _Umm…could you give me like 40 minutes? Or maybe half an hour, cause I might just abandon my dinner plans and order Chipotle._

_What are you making? Maybe I could help._

Alexis pulled up Google Chrome and contemplated the two tabs on her phone—the recipe on one, and her Chipotle mobile order on the other. Her stomach made an unsettling, David-esque grumble. She quickly checked her bank account and groaned. _“You wanted to be independent, and part of that means ordering less takeout and actually using your groceries,”_ Alexis reminded herself. _“There’s no shame in phoning a friend and asking for a lifeline when you’re trying out a brand new recipe. And you know Twyla knows her way around a kitchen.”_ Growing up with semi-absentee parents but without millions of dollars, a la the Rose kids, had forced Twyla to grow up and start taking care of herself and some of her cousins at a pretty young age. _“If anyone deserved to win the lottery, it’s definitely her,”_ Alexis mused. She glanced down at her phone again, swiped the Chipotle tab away, and copied and pasted the recipe link into her text message to Twyla.

_I’m making honey garlic shrimp with some veggies and lo-mein noodles, and this is the first time I’m trying it. I have pasta water—or I guess lo-mein water—salted and starting to boil and my frozen shrimp are thawing. Any and all assistance beyond that would be fabulous._

_Ok, I’ll check out this recipe and FaceTime you in like three minutes._

Alexis swiped up on her phone as Twyla’s call came through.

“Hey, you,” Alexis tried to inject a cheerful note into her voice as her stomach growled again. “How’s it going?”

“Busy as always. Council is throwing the town’s end of summer picnic a bit earlier than usual, which is nice since I’ll be here and we can cook up some food for it, but at the same time, we’re trying to get some new menu items in place at the café and it will be a bit hectic,” Twyla answered. “How are you?”

“Also busy, but mostly hungry, at the moment.”

“Ok, right, first step to successful cooking, per me: get some tunes playing,” Twyla recommended.

“Sure, gotta grab my laptop first to get Spotify up—so enjoy the mini virtual tour. Just please ignore the general mess,” Alexis laughed. She retrieved her laptop from the couch, set it up on her island, opened Spotify, and scrolled through her liked songs for a few seconds before settling on “Number One Fan” by MUNA for something fun and upbeat to keep the hanger from making her too dour.

“Ok, music’s going…I don’t think this sauce recipe is super complex, but it seems like a lot for one serving,” Alexis frowned.

“Yeah, I think you can halve it and that would be enough.”

“Got it,” Alexis nodded. “So I have a kind of dumb question. How do you get honey out of a measuring cup? I haven’t actually used it in cooking much before.”

“Either spray Pam or pour a little bit of olive oil in the bottom of your cup and then it won’t stick as much. You’ll probably still have some that you have to scrape out with a knife, but there won’t be giant globs of it left over.”

“Alright, got the olive oil,” Alexis said. “By the way, Twy, thank you so much for this. I hope I’m not interrupting your dinner and I promise we’ll go over your travel details later.”

Twyla shook her head. “I had a bit of an early dinner after my shift, plus I’m going to the Wobbly Elm tonight with most of the Jazzagals, so I might get something to eat there.”

“Ooh, love that for you all! Alright, so I just threw the lo-mein in the pot and I’m making the sauce now. Time to christen my new microplane—thank you, Ikea—with its first clove of garlic.”

Twyla laughs at that and it’s such a great sound and Alexis—with some pointers from her best friend—ends up making a damn tasty sauce with well-cooked noodles and MUNA’s new album is full of bops and she feels kinda on top of her life at the moment. Not on top of the world, no, but her mood’s improved substantially from where it was even ten minutes ago. She just feels _good_ , like she’s coming into her own a bit more, day by day, in NYC.

After making sure to turn off the two burners she used, Alexis plated up her meal and held her phone over it. “Thanks again for helping me cook, Twy! I could’ve handled this on my own, but it probably would’ve involved far more swearing.”

“No problem. It looks great!” Twyla answered.

“Can I give you a call back later on to go over your travel itinerary? To be honest, I’m about to absolutely demolish this and you don’t want the sound of me hoovering up a meal in the background of your apartment,” Alexis laughed. “You hear enough of that at the café, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, that’s totally fine,” Twyla replied. “I gotta shower and get changed for meeting up with the Jazzagals later, anyway.”

“Ooh, I’ll FaceTime you again for a fashion show in like, 45 minutes! Or just call me when you’re getting ready to pick some potential outfits. I’m sure you’re gonna slay all the eligible bachelors tonight. Or bachelorettes, you know, whatever or whoever floats your boat.” Alexis isn’t sure what possessed her to say that—she’s about 95% sure Twyla’s straight—but between growing up with David and having had a few dalliances with the ladies herself (you try resisting Sizzy Rocket’s wiles at an album release afterparty) she knows better than to assume.

“It’s more of a girls night, but…we’ll see,” Twyla winked. “Enjoy your dinner, Alexis, I’ll call you back later.”

Even though she was approaching ravenous levels of hunger, Alexis tried to savor every bite of her dinner, but gave up and scarfed down the shrimp, noodles, broccoli, and red bell pepper in about ten minutes. She flipped on an episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and was recovering from nearly choking on a sip of Brooklyn Summer Ale during the trial portion of the _Reynolds v. Reynolds_ episode when her phone buzzed with Twyla’s FaceTime request.

“Hey! Long time no see,” Twyla joked. “About the travel plans and this whole trip and whatnot…”

Alexis clapped her hands together. “Yes! I’m 100% here for this convo, babe. Also, don’t you look cozy and cute in your pre-going-out clothes.” Her outfit was, frankly, nothing special, but that wasn’t an insult; you couldn’t really describe black sweats and a sky blue t-shirt as high fashion. But Twyla could make any ensemble look good, even when she was just relaxing on her couch.

Twyla laughed. “Yeah, I need to chill for a bit before getting ready, it was a long day. So, first off, my flight is scheduled to get in to JFK around 6:39 at Terminal 7 on the Friday of Labor Day weekend, and then I’m heading out Monday afternoon. Would you mind meeting me at the airport when I arrive, if it’s not too much of a hassle for you? I think I’d feel more comfortable having you navigating. Plane trips, even short ones, always leave me a bit out of it, and I haven’t traveled to a large city by myself in a while. But I saw that it’s a bit of a trek from your place to JFK on the subway, so…” Twyla’s voice trailed off uncertainly.

Alexis waved her hand, trying to dismiss Twyla’s concern. “No, yeah, I can totally do that, no problem. Thanks for asking me about that now, I can definitely get that late afternoon off so I’ll be there for sure. Plus, I mean, I’m not gonna complain about maxing out my Twy time.”

Twyla’s face lit up with a smile. “Ok, awesome. I’d been a bit worried about that, to be honest.”

“Well, no need for that. I got you, babe,” Alexis answered, with a vehemence that surprised both of them, and she sipped her beer to try and gloss over how viscerally she’d responded to the thought of Twyla being at all distressed. “Alright, um, so I was thinking, that Friday, would you want to have just a quiet night in? Maybe order a pizza or Chinese or something and find a movie or show to watch? I could even place our order on the way back from the airport so we don’t have to wait too long for delivery.”

Twyla nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

“Ok, and Saturday, we could either visit the Strand bookstore or Central Park, maybe both if the weather cooperates. And then I have a surprise planned for you—well, us, but seeing as I know what it is already, it’s not really a surprise _to me_ , per se, but I’ll be participating in it—on Saturday night.”

“A…a surprise?” Twyla’s voice wavered a bit.

Alexis frowned. “What is it?”

Twyla sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “It’s just that one of my mom’s exes’ favorite surprises involved getting extremely drunk and hitting firecrackers with a baseball bat with his buddies. And sometimes the surprises were more like, hey, here’s this new guy I’m dating, he’s the one who nearly ran you down with a motorcycle when you were crossing the street on the way home from school last week. So, surprises aren’t always my favorite. On the other hand, you’d think that near-death experience would’ve made me absolutely _hate_ motorcycles, but I ended up becoming a bit fascinated with them instead. Even just being a passenger on one is so exhilarating. Especially in Schitt’s Creek, with not too much traffic to worry about.”

Alexis loves Twyla’s tangential stories, not just because they’re more entertaining than fiction, but also because they make her admire her warm spirit even more. She’d been dealt, as Moira might soliloquize, “a most uniquely unfortunate script, mired in misery and imbibed with injurious circumstances,” and had come through it all with a kind and generous soul, and the sort of positive outlook on life and community-building that Alexis wanted to emulate.

“Alexis? Are you still there?”

Twyla’s voice on the other end snapped Alexis out of her small reverie, and she gave her head a shake. “Yeah, sorry, Twy. Got lost in my own thoughts for a minute. First of all, super glad you survived that. I can assure you that your slash our surprise involves no explosives, and it most likely won’t involve baseball bats, either, but no surefire promises on that end. Second of all, look at you, little miss rebel! When were you out raising hell on a motorcycle? I had no idea you’d ever ridden one before.”

“Yeah, my ex, Robyn, had one, but we weren’t ever trouble makers. We took it for a couple small trips or to go to shops or restaurants in Elmdale, things like that.”

“That is too cute. When were you two together?”

“I dated _her_ while I was in college,” Twyla answered, grinning slightly at the emphasis she’d put into her response.

Alexis put one hand to her mouth and felt her eyebrows nearly jump into her hairline—good Lord, she and David _do_ share their dad’s genes—before yelling, “Hold the phone! Or, well, keep holding it—oh, you know what I mean, don’t laugh,” she said, but without any real frustration or annoyance in it as Twyla dissolved into giggles at her reaction. “But how did I _not_ know you’ve dated girls, Twy? And does Robyn still live in Schitt’s Creek? I never met anyone by that name.”

Twyla shrugged as she got up from her couch and made her way to her bedroom. “I mean, it’s never really come up. And no, she moved to Toronto after she graduated from Elmdale.”

“Oh. I’m sorry?” Alexis feels like she suddenly overleaped her normal boundaries with Twyla by about a foot and a half—after all, she didn’t know this part of her past at all and just sort of dislodged and dredged it up out of the blue.

“It’s ok, Alexis,” Twyla assured her. “Things just didn’t work out between us. We were only together a bit over 10 months, and it was mostly during my sophomore year of college. And, I mean, I’ve mostly dated guys anyway, so it’s not that big of a deal.”

“But that part of you is still 100% _you_ , Twy,” Alexis insisted before wincing a bit. “Sorry, I don’t mean to tell you how to feel, that would be so rude. But you know, like if, tonight, you met some amazing girl and she was into you and you wanted to see where things went with her, then, by all means, you should. I guess I’m trying to say to not box yourself in, or invalidate your experiences, as David might put it.”

Twyla interrupted, softly, “Yeah, I…I really appreciate what you mean.” She opened her closet up and cleared her throat. “Um, sorry, I got us way off topic.”

“Twy, you never have to apologize for speaking up,” Alexis responded. She isn’t sure how it’s happened, but she could swear the city outside—normally a cacophony of car horns, screeching subway brakes, and random, outsized conversation—has muted itself for them to chat quietly, privately, like they did so often at the café during early mornings or late nights. “I mean, I just got to learn this new thing about you, which is, I don’t know. Awesome feels like too trivial a word. Just…thanks for sharing that with me. And it won’t change anything between us.” To bring a bit of levity back to the conversation, Alexis added, “Well, unless you started dating a woman with ties to the Colombian cocaine trade, because Narcos really doesn’t exaggerate how ruthless those kingpins are and the money just isn’t worth it.”

She can hear Twyla laughing—“ _she must have put her phone down while getting some clothes out or getting changed_ ,” Alexis guessed, based on her view of the bedroom ceiling—which is a good sign. “Thank you for that, Alexis,” came Twyla’s reply, her voice still a bit distant. “And I don’t think you’ll ever have to worry about me dating any drug lords, or drug queens, if that’s the right term. Enough people in my family have gotten involved in low-level narcotics dealing and I’d rather avoid that.”

“A very good choice,” Alexis answered, glad to have re-established their normal repartee a bit. “So, are we nearly ready for the fashion show? I can’t wait to see what kind of vibe you’re going to give off at the Wobbly Elm tonight, babe.”

“Well, I’m not sure what exactly this outfit says, but maybe you can interpret for me?” Twyla asked, stepping in front of her long mirror and holding her phone up to show off a strapless, knee-length purple dress.

“Ohmygod, Twy, you are _working_ that dress!” Alexis exclaimed. “I mean, you can rock any look, duh, but this really shows off your shoulders and collarbones to great effect, especially with your hair tied back in that cute little ponytail.”

 _“Are you…are you flirting with Twyla?”_ a tiny voice in her head asked.

 _“No, of course not! I’m an impartial fashionista. If someone looks amazing in something, I can’t just leave it at that, I’ve gotta tell them why,”_ Alexis responded to herself. _“I mean, what sounds better, just ‘you look great’ or ‘you look great BECAUSE that dress has a cute little belt that shows off your slim waist’?”_

 _“And that’s not the type of thing you’ve said to foreign girls at Swiss ski lodges when you want to get them off the slopes and into an armchair by the fire with you?”_ she countered.

“Hey, Alexis? Did you, um, discern a vibe yet?” Twyla asked.

She pursed her lips, trying to figure out her answer. “Not exactly. Can you give me some intel on this dress? Like, why you bought it or where you’ve worn it before?”

“So, I had a few dates with this guy from Elmdale recently—nothing serious, things just kinda fizzled out,” she added, seeing Alexis on the verge of interjecting.

“How’d you know I was about to ask about it?”

“Your eyebrows,” Twyla replied simply, laughing a bit. “Anyway, I’d bought this for what would have been our fourth date, but that didn’t happen. And as for why I bought it…well, it reminded me of some of your outfits that I have. It’s a bit more daring, I guess, than a lot of what I normally wear.”

Alexis grinned. “Ok, can I just say, massive appreciation for my spirit being part of your fashion journey. And,” she prompted, “how does it make you feel?”

Was it her imagination, or had Twyla blushed a bit at that question? She took a minute to assess herself in the mirror. “Honestly, I feel confident. And hot. Like I know I can get someone’s attention at the bar if I want to, but I don’t _have_ to, I’m not desperately going to chase after someone.”

Alexis nodded excitedly as if she’d carefully cultivated that exact feeling in a lab and crowed, “Absolutely _love_ that for you. So, I’m going to call this outfit’s vibe, ‘Twy to the front’ because you’re totally feeling yourself. Even from FaceTime I can see you’re practically _glowing_ in it and you’re _desirable_. Is that a fitting description so far?”

Ok, Twyla _definitely_ blushed at that. “I’d say so, yes.”

Alexis continued enthusiastically, “It’s obvious that stepping into that dress lifted your spirits a bit. And the way you nodded to yourself in the mirror a minute ago like, yeah, check me out, but you’re doing it more for yourself than anyone else? That’s _so_ empowering. It can make other people take notice and then want to do that for themselves with their fashion choices, which is a super rad ripple effect.” Alexis paused for a minute and realized she’d gestured her way through her entire dissection of Twyla’s dress. “I’m sorry, did I get too in-depth with everything? It’s just, well, as you know, I spent way too much money and time on clothes in my previous life, and I still have a bit of a fashion diva in me, I guess.”

Twyla shook her head. “No, it’s sweet, actually, to have put that much thought into it. And I already felt good in this dress, but the way you explained everything just amplified it. So, thanks, Alexis,” Twyla smiled. “The only thing is, you don’t think it’s too much for a girls night out?”

Alexis took in the dress again for a second and replied, “No, I think if you wear like, a light gray or black cardigan over it, that would make it suitable. And as for shoes…”

“I’m probably going to wear my black flats,” Twyla answered.

“Perfectly sensible choice,” Alexis nodded, then clapped her hand to her mouth as she saw it was already going on 8:00. “Oh my God, Twy, I hadn’t realized we’d been chatting so long. I hope I’m not going to make you late for your outing.”

“Nah, I’ve still got some time to touch up my makeup before I leave. Thanks for going over those vacation details with me and for the fashion consultation. Always nice to have an Alexis-approved outfit before going out,” she added.

“The pleasure was all mine, babe. I hope you have a great time with the Jazzagals, and let me know if any lucky guy or girl there catches your eye,” Alexis winked.

Twyla laughed. “Well, I’m not really looking for anyone at the moment, but I’ll keep an open mind. At least I have your mom’s trick in my arsenal if I need it.”

“She will love to hear that it’s still in circulation. Talk to you later, Twy! Have fun, be safe.”

“Thanks, Alexis, have a good night!” Twyla waved to her as she ended the call.

Alexis didn’t put her phone down right away. _“I wonder, are there any eligible guys out there for me?”_ After a moment’s hesitation, she opened Bumble and started swiping. Though the NYC dating pool was massive compared to the one in Schitt’s Creek, she found herself rejecting nearly everyone. Even getting SuperSwiped by genuinely attractive guys with pictures of cute dogs, which used to be more than enough to inspire Alexis to send a flirty message and a tastefully scandalous picture within a couple of hours at most, couldn’t compel her to start a conversation now. There was an unsettling sameness to most of the guys in her feed—too many perfectly coiffed dudes in Vineyard Vines shorts, LaCoste polos, and boat shoes rocking Chip Skylark-esque shiny white smiles at Times Square, Central Park, or the Brooklyn Bridge. And sure, some of them undoubtedly run in high finance circles, are bankrolled by parents’ trust funds, and can get her into exclusive parties at warehouses deep in Bushwick. But she’s _met_ those kinds of guys before, and developing a relationship with them is predicated on just a few factors: physical attraction and access to drugs, money, and/or prestige. And the idea of being someone’s arm candy or status symbol just to become reacquainted with the trappings of her former life? Of potentially taking a detour away from, or even just pausing, her current journey and ascent toward girl-boss status?

“Fuck that,” Alexis muttered, tossing her phone down onto her couch.

That’s not to say she’d ever really settle down into being a homebody by any means. Alexis will readily admit that a few weekend nights in New York have ended with her curled up on her coworker Jenna’s couch, at a rando’s loft, or intoxicated in an Uber after 1:00 A.M. She’ll always have a taste for adventure, definitely, but she doesn’t want her next relationship to be defined by how many drugs they can get or how many Jet-ski rides she takes. She wants to actively care about the next person who may be lucky enough to date her rather than use them for meaningless social media competitions.

 _“And,”_ Alexis thought to herself, _“I need someone to reciprocate that attention and affection. Even if it started at a not-Ted level. As weird as it sounds, future significant other, please see past my stunning good looks to appreciate my sense of humor, smarts, and kindness, among other traits like my great taste in music and my lock-picking ability.”_

 _“You’re addressing your future significant other in your own head, dear. You may want to reconsider your definition of weird. And the only way you might meet said person right now is online,”_ another part of her subconscious chimed in.

 _“Ugh,”_ Alexis groaned inwardly. _“I hope Twy has better luck than I do right now if she ends up being on the hunt for someone tonight. Though, like, how could she not have better luck at that bar in that dress? Or any dress, really, since she’s pretty easily the most attractive woman in Schitt’s Creek.”_

 _“You might even say desirable. Oh, wait, that IS what you said, isn’t it? Why’d you say that, Lex?”_ another part of her answered.

Alexis opened her mouth to try and respond to herself. Closed her mouth. Tried opening it again, thinking she was on the tip of some rationale or comeback or explanation, that she was _obviously_ just talking about how Twyla felt in the dress, not Twyla in general, and certainly not how _she_ felt toward Twyla, as well. And…nothing.

With the slightest fumble, she grabbed her phone back, pulled up her text message thread with David, and, before she could convince herself not to, texted him.

_“Hey, David, if you and Patrick are having date night tonight, no need to respond to this immediately, we can talk tomorrow afternoon. Anyway, I…I think I might have a crush on Twy.”_

**

“C’mon, come to Mexico with us, Twyla!” Jocelyn shouted, gesturing to herself, Grace, and Gwen.

Twyla checked the time and looked at her bemusedly. “Jocelyn, I have to be at work early tomorrow, and it’s already going on 10:30.” Her resolve to be a completely responsible business owner faltered, though, as the Jazzagals' ringleader slid a shot glass of Patron down the bar to her. “Eh, one won’t kill me,” she shrugged, and tossed it back. Jocelyn did the same and cried, “That’s the spirit! Enjoy your youth and freedom while you can!”

The barkeep mouthed to Ronnie, “Should I cut her off soon?”

Ronnie nodded and muttered out of the side of her mouth, “Thank God she Uber’d here because a hammered Jocelyn is not something I want in my truck at the end of any night,” causing Twyla to nearly snort in laughter.

“Hey everyone,” Jocelyn called, in a more restrained, bringing the class to order tone, “I just remembered we have an anniversary to celebrate. Today is the one year anniversary of our own lovely Twyla Sands becoming the owner of Café Tropical. Or, as it’s now known, Twyla’s Café Tropical. Let’s hear it for her!”

A handful of regulars—of both the bar and the café—yelled “Speech!” and before she knew it, Twyla felt about twenty sets of eyes on her. Clambering off her bar stool, she glanced around and raised her voice a bit. “Honestly, I don’t have much to say. You all are the reason the café has been, and will continue to be, a success, and I’m more than happy to ensure it remains a part of the Schitt’s Creek community long-term. So, thank you. I’d, um, raise a glass, but I don’t have one right now…”

The bartender asked, “So what’ll you have, then?”

Twyla turned around, surprised that he’d spoken. “A rum and coke would be awesome.”

He grinned. “Coming right up. Can’t have a toast without a drink.” He made short work of the order and handed the glass to her.

“Oh, thanks,” Twyla laughed. She held it aloft. “So, to Schitt’s Creek, to friends, to family, and to good food. Thanks again, everyone.” She sat back on her perch and meant to thank the bartender again, but he’d ducked out from behind the bar and was hustling down the basement stairs.

Jocelyn made her way over to Twyla from the other end of the bar and stage whispered, “That bartender is super cute and you should definitely talk to him. That was a smooth move he made. Reminded me of when Roland would put extra cheese on my nachos without telling me as a surprise.”

“Who said romance is dead with gestures like that?” Ronnie wisecracked.

Twyla chuckled. “I’ll have to properly thank him for the drink, at least.”

She didn’t have to wait long, as he returned with a twelve of Miller Lite and started stocking the fridge under the bar.

“Hey,” Twyla said when he’d gotten up. She raised her glass at him. “Thanks for this.”

He grinned and glanced at her maybe a second longer than she’d expected. Ok, Jocelyn was right, he was pretty attractive. His face reminded her of season 2 or 3 Jim from _The Office_ : good looking, not like a model or anything, but with an easy smile. “You’re welcome. Twyla, right? Interesting name.”

“Yep, I come from an interesting family,” she replied. “And you are…”

“Jason.” He extended his hand out and she shook it. “Nice to meet ya.”

“Same to you,” Twyla nodded. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but are you new to the area? As you can tell from,” Twyla gestured at the rest of the bar, “all that a minute ago, we’re a pretty tight knit bunch and I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I got a position in Elmdale’s government a couple months ago, as part of their financial management team, but I’ve also tended bars officially since I was 21 and I mostly like it, so I figured I’d make some extra cash on the side here. Unofficially, I’ve been a renowned mixologist since 19. I learned pretty quickly in college that I’d have extremely limited access to anything but PBR at best, as far as beer went, and I figured my taste buds deserved better.”

Twyla laughed at that. “I’ve had my fair share of shitty beer at parties around here, so I know where you’re coming from.” She laughed again. “Oh, jeez, I wasn’t even going for that pun.”

“I’ve heard it a few times in Elmdale.” Jason frowned a bit. “I get the sense that there’s a bit of a rivalry between Elmdale and Schitt’s Creek, sometimes.”

Ronnie, fortunately, had made her way to the other end of the bar to chat with Jocelyn and some of the other Jazzagals, or the conversation would have taken a sharp turn into political talk. As it was, Twyla shrugged. “Yes and no. It’s a bit money related—as in, Elmdale has it, and we don’t, or at least we don’t have as much—but the people mostly get along. Same goes for the governments, I think, but you’d be more plugged into that then I would be.”

“Yeah, I’d agree, from what I’ve seen so far. Speaking of money, you must have come into a decent bit to be able to buy a restaurant.”

She shrugged again. “I got some inheritance funds from my Great Aunt Rhoda. And it’s a café.” Technically, not a lie. Just, that inheritance was all of $1,000 and some woefully outdated, neon green shag carpeting that not even Twyla wanted to salvage and _theoretically_ some of the money she’d used to buy the café could’ve come out of that inheritance.

Twyla really appreciated that Alexis—who, bless her, was not always the most tight-lipped person in the world—had kept mum about her winning the lottery. It had felt weird to have to deflect some questions about buying the cafe, and thankfully, most of the town was just happy for her, but that could change if they knew Twyla was sitting on tens of millions of dollars.

“My mistake,” Jason apologized, then flashed another smile. “Well, I’m glad I’m not fraternizing with the enemy, so to speak. By the way, my shift ends around 11 if you’d like to, um, keep fraternizing? Be back in a few,” he added as he darted toward the other end of the bar to serve some more customers.

“Ok,” she nodded. As he moved, Twyla glanced down at her dress and nearly smirked at how it had drawn Jason in so easily. _“Alexis was completely right about this outfit,”_ she thought to herself. _“And I had been worried I wouldn’t look good in it. I’m glad she set me straight.”_ Alexis had _really_ been generous with the compliments tonight, too. Twyla smiled to herself at the memory. It was pretty rare for girls—she supposes they’re women, really; Moira had once somewhat drunkenly held court at the cafe on the connotations of the different terms as they related to gender roles, but it didn’t and still doesn’t matter much to her—to engage with each other that way in Schitt’s Creek. Well, unless they were hammered together in bathrooms, trying to fix their makeup to impress either the star jocks or the guys who were more like Jason.

 _“I should return the favor for Alexis sometime, though I certainly don’t know as much about fashion,”_ Twyla thought. _“But it can’t be hard to describe how she looks or feels in one of her fancy dresses, right? If I had to, I’d say she’s elegant. A showstopper.”_ She paused for a second. _“Those seem a bit too focused just on her looks, though. Maybe electrifying is a better term. Or fierce.”_

She likes that last word the most, especially as it relates to Alexis’ whole focus on being a girl-boss and making her own imprint on the world, but it doesn’t quite capture the ample kindness that she offers her friends and family. That change was an especially large surprise to Twyla, given how rude Alexis and, really, the whole Rose clan had been to her and the rest of the folks in town when they’d arrived in Schitt’s Creek.

Twyla vaguely recalled a poem she’d studied during freshman composition at Elmdale that had something to do with containing multitudes, and she thinks it applies to Alexis. Like, how she managed to parlay what seemed like a chaotic mess at the debut of Moira’s Crows movie into a success with more quick thinking and organizational skills than a lot of people would give her credit for. And Twyla’s watched those multitudes multiply and develop, both up close and now from more of a distance, and she wants to keep doing that, keep being a part of Alexis’ “journey,” as she calls the wild ride that is her life, because it’s made Twyla want to improve her _own_ life even more, too. Really, Alexis has made her life better just by being in it, and—

Twyla finishes her drink and her thought at the same time, and it isn’t the bonus booze at the bottom of her glass that makes her go dizzy for a minute.

_“Nope, that’s definitely from realizing that I’m falling for Alexis.”_

Unfortunately for Jason, who showed back up in front of Twyla with a small, hopeful smile on his face. “Hey…any thoughts on my offer?”

“Hey, Jason. I’m going to have to decline, sorry,” Twyla answered, wincing as his face fell slightly. “But, it was honestly really nice to meet you, you’re a great conversationalist, and you make a mean rum and coke.” She was tempted to add “it’s not you, it’s me” or “it’s a long story,” but expanding on that story—“sorry, I’m bi, I think I might have feelings for my best friend, and I’m going to visit her in a couple of weeks”—for a relative stranger didn’t seem like a great idea.

He nodded stiffly. “Thanks.” He grabbed the $10 she’d put in front of her glass. “Let me get you your change.”

Twyla shook her head. “I don’t need any.”

He brightened a bit at that. “Hey, thanks, that’s really nice of you.”

“No problem. By the way, have you been to the café since you moved here?”

“No, I’ve mostly been exploring Elmdale so far,” he answered.

Twyla smiled. “Well, you should stop by sometime—we have a pretty large menu, and I can swing you our first-timer discount, half off your meal. If I’m not there, just tell your server and they’ll take care of it.”

She was glad to see a genuine smile emerge on Jason’s face at that. He seemed like a pretty good guy, even if things weren’t going exactly how he wanted tonight. “I’ll definitely do that. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime, Twyla. It’s nice to have another friendly face here.”

“Thanks,” she nodded. “Same to you, Jason.” She retrieved her keys from her purse, said her goodbyes to the gaggle of Jazzagals, and made her way through a lively crowd of newcomers at the entrance. She noticed Ronnie was heading out, as well, and held the door open for her. “Thanks, I had to get out of there before all the young folk took over.” She gave Twyla a bit of a sideways glance as they walked toward their cars in the dirt parking lot. Even though Ronnie generally kept her head above the fray as far as gossip went, she’d sometimes partake in it. In a town as small as Schitt’s Creek, nearly everyone did, at one point or another. “That new bartender seemed pretty interested in you, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he was. He works in Elmdale. He might stop by the café sometime.”

“Ooh, as a date?”

“No, I kinda doubt it right now.” Twyla beeped her car, thought about just getting in and driving home, but she was still turning over her minor revelation about her feelings toward Alexis and instead asked, “Ronnie, have you ever… _liked_ one of your friends? But you’re not sure if they’d be receptive to it?”

“Ah,” she nodded sagely. “Yep. Easily the worst part of liking women, if I do say so myself. Happened with one of my friends during college. She was straight, so,” Ronnie shrugged. “What are you gonna do? We actually still keep up with each other pretty regularly. If they’re a good enough friend, sharing your feelings won’t hurt that relationship.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Twyla responded, a bit dubiously. A cold breeze whistled through the air, making her shiver and seemingly sapping away all the confidence she felt earlier, to boot.

“If you don’t mind my asking, is it someone in town that you’re interested in? Anyone I know? I can beat ‘em up for you if you need, I’ve got more than enough tools at my disposal for that.”

Twyla chuckled, then took a deep breath as she let the cat out of the bag. “No to the first question. Yes to the second one.”

Ronnie’s eyes darted around a bit as she mulled over Twyla’s answer. “Is it Princess?”

Twyla nodded.

Ronnie shook her head bemusedly. “I mean this with kindness, but she doesn’t just march to the beat of her own drum, she conducts her own entire orchestra.”

Twyla felt a twinge of annoyance at Ronnie for the comment. “Just because Alexis can be a bit eccentric, it doesn’t make her any less kind or caring or funny.”

“True. She did grow on me. They all did,” Ronnie admitted. “And you’re going to visit her soon, right?”

“Yep,” Twyla answered, fully aware a dorky smile had popped onto her face at the thought.

“Well, I’ll just tell you this, then. Prin—sorry, Alexis and I didn’t always see eye to eye, sure. But, from what I saw when she was here, it was clear she came to care for you a lot. And I think, you know, if you share with her what you shared with me, she’ll still be there for you, no matter which way she responds.”

“Thanks, Ronnie,” Twyla beamed. “I owe you one.”

“How about you save a cinnamon bun for me tomorrow morning at the café and we call it even?” she called as the two parted ways.

“You got it,” Twyla called back.

Whether from emotional relief from sharing her news or just sheer exhaustion, she couldn’t say, but her mind stayed surprisingly blank as she drove home, peeled off her dress, removed her makeup, and got ready for bed. However, after Twyla set the alarm on her phone, she found herself scrolling to her messages and tapped Alexis’ name, fingers hovering over her keyboard.

Something inside her whispered, _“Be a little bold. She did say you’re desirable, after all.”_ Grinning again at that conversation, she ran a quick word search through the thread.

Alexis has called her “babe,” via text, 38 times. And Twyla’s never called Alexis “babe.”

Until now.

Twyla exhaled a breath she didn’t know she was holding after she typed out her message and pressed send, smiling a little as she got into bed and imagined Alexis’ reaction. 

**

 _“Good choice on making it an early night, past self,”_ Alexis thought as she stretched and rolled out of bed a bit before 9. If the slightly hidden sun peeking through her blinds was any indication, she’d have a decent morning for a run with some cloud cover before the city’s unbearable, sweltering summer heat sapped the life out of its inhabitants. She quickly changed into her workout gear and unlocked her phone, eager to get her “Rise and Grind” playlist pumping into her earbuds, when she saw a message from Twy from late last night, about an hour or so after she’d put down The Ninth House and gone to sleep. And she feels the biggest, dumbest smile come onto her face as she opens it and sees how it starts.

_Hey, babe. I just wanted to say your intuition about this outfit was absolutely, completely correct. I had the bartender at the Wobbly Elm almost tripping over himself while he was checking me out. He was actually pretty nice—major upgrade from a lot of the creepy guys here, really—so I felt a little bad for shutting him down, but also like a TOTAL badass for doing it. I just feel like I don’t NEED a guy in my life right now, you know? Hope this doesn’t wake you up if you’re already asleep, I just got home._

Alexis honestly hadn’t been 100% certain she had a crush on Twyla when she’d texted David the night before. She’d been pretty sure, yeah, but part of her had wondered, _“Is this just how really good, platonic, best girlfriends feel about each other and I’ve never experienced it before?”_

But the way her heart caught in her throat when she read the first sentence and promptly plummeted into her stomach when she saw the mention of some _guy_ , the way she whispered _“yes!”_ to herself when she read that Twy had rejected his advances, the fact that she closed her eyes, trying to picture her best friend sashaying out of the bar, cool as anything, looking dynamite—it’s all the confirmation Alexis needed, and then some, that her feelings are _not_ strictly platonic.

Despite that roller coaster of an internal response to all of one paragraph, she felt surprisingly “in check” mentally.

Normally, when she entered the initial crush stage with a guy, Alexis instantly turned into a crack detective, reading and re-reading every message from her object of interest to parse out what he thought of her. Then, she transitioned into the role of neurotic proofreader, trying to figure out if she should insert a regular smile or a winky smile emoji into a subtly flirty message and deliberating about how much time she should leave in between responding to texts or snaps.

And, yeah, she’s not _not_ still grinning like an idiot as she steps into her sneakers in the front hall and locks her door to head out for her run, but the concerns about how she comes across or how she presents herself over text are just way less present with Twy. There’s no need to play the role of a sexy socialite who’s, like, _so_ down to hit up some dingy bar just to badmouth it. With Twy, just being herself has always been enough. 

So when Alexis texts back, _I dub thee, Twyla Sands, breaker of hearts, belle of the bar, regal ruler of restaurants!_ and sends it without a second thought as she trots out the front door of her building, not worrying that she’ll be chastised for being silly or goofy or weird, she’s struck by more than the usual intoxicating, bready scent of the bagel shop across the street from her place.

She almost can’t believe how _right_ it feels to even just have Twy as her best friend, and the good vibes, plus All Time Low and Marianas Trench blasting some old-school pop-punk hits, carry her almost effortlessly throughout her run. Alexis got back a bit before 9:30 and took a long shower—after sharing one with David for several years at the motel, it’s a luxury she’ll allow herself just about every weekend. She was quartering up a grapefruit to go with an everything bagel and French vanilla yogurt when she got a text from David. She couldn’t help but laugh; she could practically _hear_ the surprise in his voice from his dramatic tone.

_Wait…to confirm, we’re talking about sweet Schitt’s Creek Twyla, correct? That’s what I’m assuming at the moment, and working from that assumption, when did this happen?? I had too much wine to properly formulate thoughts about this last night, but rest assured, I will absolutely need more details after I’ve had some coffee._

Alexis replied with just _Yes,_ preferring to give David more details over the phone because, despite their many faults, the Rose siblings _did_ know how to listen to one another, and Alexis felt like she could actually use David as a bit of a sounding board to find adequate words to describe her headspace. Or, rather, the parts of it that keep drifting back to Twy calling her “babe.”

Fortunately, David must have found the strength and mental fortitude to make his coffee—or, more likely, had Patrick go get him some from the café—because he was calling her only a few minutes later.

“Hey, David. What’s up?” Alexis asked, going for what she hoped was a casual tone.

“Oh, you know, not much. Went to a new pub in Elmdale last night for our date. It was nice, even if their wine selection was woefully inadequate compared to the number of IPAs and other macho beers on tap. And we're looking into participating in more pop-up shops at events around town.”

“Love that, sounds like exciting times for you and Patrick,” she affirmed, wondering for a moment if he’d actually somehow forgotten their conversation from all of ten minutes ago.

“Yes, thank you,” he answered warmly, and she’s trying to figure out a way to broach what she mentioned last night when he says, with a smirk on his face—his tone of voice totally gives it away, even if Alexis can’t see him—“So, I stopped by the café this morning for a breakfast sandwich and _may_ have chatted with a certain waitress and café owner.”

Alexis smacked the arm of her sofa because she couldn’t very easily hit David's at the moment. “Ohmygod, David! Did you say anything to Twy?”

“Of course!” he answered, eliciting a gasp and another sofa whack from Alexis. “I gave her a different coffee order than usual because I needed an extra sugar in it today to wake me up,” he added sweetly after a beat.

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, David, you suck.”

“Excuse me, I’m gravely offended that you thought I’d betray your confidence. Anyway,” he went on, his tone softening somewhat, “do you mind talking through when you started feeling this way toward Twyla?”

Alexis sighed. “I guess within the past week, especially, but it’s sort of difficult to say. We were talking pretty regularly before we planned this whole visit, but it’s been even more constant since then. I feel like in some way we’ve had this sort of low level attraction toward each other for a while, like a kind of mutual admiration as we’ve gotten our lives together. ”

“Sure, I can understand that,” David responded quietly. “You know, when you’re really good friends with someone—”

“—Best friends,” Alexis interjected.

David paused a second, then continued, “Ok, when you’re best friends with someone, you’ll obviously want them to succeed. And if they’re working hard at that, and if you’re supporting each other, it can certainly be attractive. For both parties.”

Alexis nodded. “Yeah. Definitely. And I think just kind of the long term-ness of—” she grasped at air, wanting _something_ to seize onto, some concrete, knowable, touchable _thing_ instead of a concept, an abstract possibility.

“Of your friendship with Twyla?” David commented.

“Yes, thank you—I’ve never developed feelings for someone so long after initially meeting them, and it’s kind of thrown me for a loop? Like, I’ve been flirting with Twy more intentionally lately, for sure, when it used to be completely harmless. It’s just part of how I always communicate, you know that, but I _mean_ it more now.”

David chuckled. “Yes, yes I do. And I think that brings up another point. So you said you’re flirting with her more openly. But, um…how do I put this? Is it just sort of a game between you two? And I’m not trying to cheapen how you feel,” he added quickly, “but you know how sometimes you match with someone on Tinder, or Bumble, or whatever, and it _seems_ like there’s chemistry there, but it doesn’t really last?”

Alexis bit her lip, trying to get on David’s wavelength. “You mean, like, when you have hot convos for a while but you can’t actually talk about anything real? Or when you meet up with someone after you seem to click online and over messages and it’s totally meh in person?”

“Yep, that’s what I meant,” he answered.

Even though David couldn’t see her, Alexis still shook her head. “No, it’s definitely not like that. For one thing, we can still talk about both everything and nothing, both serious and meaningful topics and run of the mill day to day things, we’re not just flirting all the time. And yesterday, we were chatting about her travel itinerary and what we were doing this weekend, and Twy was going out with the Jazzagals to the Wobbly Elm. So I was like, ooh, you should have a fashion show and I can help you pick out an outfit through FaceTime. And…” Alexis paused, unsure exactly how much to share, as though repeating some of what she’d said out loud to Twy yesterday, or even just paraphrasing, might make the words crystallize.

“And...?” David prompted her gently. “Sorry, I’m not trying to push you, it just felt like that was going somewhere and you stopped.”

“No, yeah, it was,” she answered. “It’s…I’m still trying to work out what this all means as I’m talking through it.”

“Yeah, I get that. Take your time, Alexis,” David replied. “You don’t have to get this all—whatever it may be—worked out in one day.”

“Thanks, David.” She took a second to recollect herself, then kept talking. “Ok, so she picked out a dress. But it wasn’t like one of her usual, high collar, cute ones she wears at the café, you know? It was a strapless, knee length, bright purple dress. Think of, like, the color of T. Swift’s dress on the Speak Now album cover, but maybe a shade darker. So I asked Twy why she’d gotten it and she said it was a bit more daring than some of what she usually wears. She said it reminded her of some of the outfits I gave to her just before we left, which really flattered me.”

David gave a soft “Mmhmm” and Alexis continued, “And it was really clear that Twy felt _great_ in that dress, and that was attractive to me. But in a sort of general female empowerment, women supporting women, loving that she’s confident type way, not Twy-specific. But I did also mention that it highlighted her shoulders and collarbones and…” Alexis blushed, not exactly sure how to continue.

_“That_ detailsounds rather Twy-specific, Alexis,” David commented.

“Yes, well, that is how we’ve ended up here, I suppose. And the fact that I kind of can’t stop thinking about her.” Alexis sighed. “It’s just, I’m used to navigating this territory with guys. With pretty much all the girls I’ve kissed, or made out with, or whatever, it’s always been a one-time thing. Like, celebrating that we’re getting out of Dubai ahead of a regime change and kissing a diplomat’s daughter on the airplane home out of sheer relief, or making out with Florence and the Machine’s tour manager backstage at Coachella.”

“Completely normal circumstances into which anyone could stumble, I’m sure.” David’s teasing her a bit, but it also gets her to laugh.

“I mean, those experiences _were_ fun but I also didn’t have to worry about any sort of consequences later or think about any ongoing friendship or relationship. And with Twy…” Alexis fiddled with her hair and tried to will _some_ words from her brain to her mouth, but the only thing she knows is that this is new for her. Which is like, _duh,_ painfully obvious and not useful in the least.

“Ok, I think I at least sort of understand where your head is at right now and I hope what I have to tell you next can help you.” David took a breath. “Are you feeling some confusion and frustration at not being able to articulate what’s going on inside your mind?”

“Yeah,” Alexis answered vehemently. “ _A lot_ of confusion and frustration, actually.”

“That’s how I felt the first time I realized I was seriously interested in a woman, in my senior year of college. Because up to that point, I mean, I’d _only_ dated guys, had only kissed guys, only been interested in guys, period, end of story. My brain was basically the Pikachu surprised face meme for, like, two or three months.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. And every time I tried to explain it to someone, they were like, but you’re gay! And I was like, if I’m gay then why do I want this woman just as badly as I’ve wanted some guys? But I couldn’t actually explain to myself, for a while, why I was attracted to her, so then I was like, ok, am I _actually_ attracted to her? If this is just a physical thing, am I not 100% gay? I had a really challenging time figuring all that out.”

“Oh. Wow. That must have been difficult,” Alexis answered softly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you then, David.”

“Thank you for that, Alexis. But, we were all pretty awful people then, we hurt each other relatively equally, we’re all in better places now.” He went on, “And, as you just said, it _was_ difficult for me to come to terms with, and it took a lot of time and internal processing and some Internet searching for me to even clarify my own thoughts. Then more time after that to figure out how to share this new part of me with other people.”

“Sure, that makes sense,” Alexis murmured.

“And I’m not saying that how you feel towards Twyla represents an exact comparison to how I felt toward that woman,” David clarified. “But it sounds like you might be going through a similar process now, in terms of reevaluating a bit of your identity, almost. And it seems like you’re at that starting point of, how do I figure this out, and what does it mean? So I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you ever want or need to talk about it more. Or, you know, if you don’t, that’s fine, too, whatever you’re comfortable with. I love you, and you don’t have to have all the answers right this second, or this week, or this month. There’s no right or wrong timeline.”

Alexis cleared her throat to avoid sounding too choked up. “I love you too. Thanks for that.”

“Of course,” he nodded before giving a sudden laugh. “Alright, I’m sorry if this next question seems a bit abrupt. God, I feel like an idiot.”

“An astute observation,” Alexis grinned.

“Drink paint, please and thank you,” David retorted, but it was a perfunctory insult, part of their typical banter. “Anyway, I apologize in advance if this question ends up being a downer, but, do you know if Twyla is interested in women, herself?”

“Yeah, one of her ex-girlfriends has a motorcycle,” Alexis answered casually. “And she mentioned she won’t date any drug lords or drug queens from South America, so as far as I can tell, she’s still at least open to the idea of being with a woman.”

“You two really do talk about everything, don’t you?” She can tell David just shook his head and merely giggled in response. “Ok, given your potential interest in her, I’m happy to hear that, because I wasn’t sure if I could also do the ‘so you’re interested in a woman who’s straight’ talk right this minute. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get more coffee and start watching Love Is Blind.”

“Ew, David, they’re on Netflix, that’s my competition!” Alexis complained.

“Sorry, sis, but I’ve heard there are some trashy trainwrecks in this show and I will not be denied such appointment viewing.” After a second, he added, “I hope this talk helped you feel a bit better, at least.”

“Yeah, definitely. Thanks, David.”

“Sure thing. By the way…oh, I don’t know if I should say anything.”

“David, come on,” she complained.

“Well, I may have mentioned something about New York at the café and Twyla seemed _very_ excited at the prospect of seeing you soon.”

Alexis was really grateful she wasn’t on a FaceTime call since she could feel herself blushing and David would tease her mercilessly for it. “Well, duh, we’re best friends and we haven’t seen each other since I left Schitt’s Creek, so I hope she’d be excited.”

David hummed a little knowing “Mmhmm” before saying, “Talk again soon, love you, bye!”

“Love you too!” Alexis hung up the call and noticed she had a notification from Twyla.

_Oh, gosh, I don’t know about heartbreaker or belle of the bar, but regal ruler of restaurants has a nice ring to it. By the way, David stopped by the café earlier and he took it upon himself to give me some sightseeing ideas for when I come to visit. He seemed a touch annoyed when I said I trusted your planning abilities completely. I almost can’t believe I’ll be there in just a couple of weeks. Looking forward to it!_

Alexis smiled; there was no overthinking her response to that. _Same, babe. Can’t wait to see you!_


	2. Chapter 2

Twyla ran through her checklist one more time in her head as she pulled her suitcase out across the threshold of her apartment’s front door and walked toward her car. “ _The boarding pass is on your phone and you’re still flying out of Terminal 2 at 5:08. Your spare set of keys is safely hidden at the café. You’ll have plenty of time to get to the airport, get through security, and find a bite to eat before your flight. Alexis will be waiting for you when you arrive.”_

Twyla had tacked that final addendum onto her mental NYC travel itinerary at some point in the past couple of weeks and it had stuck there ever since. If she’s being honest, Alexis hadn’t really left her mind in the past couple of weeks, in general.

Though they’d both been slammed with work recently, they’d pulled through relatively well. Thanks in part to Alexis’ marketing skills, _Break the Safe_ remained a solid fixture within Interflix’s top 10 movies through all of August, and Twyla had debuted a couple of new dishes—spaghetti carbonara and stuffed bell pepper tacos—that won over most of her regular clientele, including a small contingency of stubborn old-timers.

The two of them had spent a good bit of time talking logistics, which factored into Alexis taking up some space in Twyla’s mind. But a lot of it had to do with how Alexis nearly always framed seemingly haphazard, random suggestions of where to go, what to eat—insisting that they _must_ get bagels from the shop across the street because “ohmygod, Twy, they are the pinnacle of breakfasting here”—within the context of what Twyla herself might like, or might want to do, even if that didn’t necessarily involve going to some of New York City’s most popular tourist destinations. As Alexis had said during one of their chats recently, “I don’t want you to come here worrying about visiting a bunch of museums or feeling like your trip is turning into a to-do list, babe. Besides our Saturday night plans, we don’t have any firm commitments, so we can totally take it easy if you want.”

Twyla was accustomed to being the center of attention thanks to owning the café, but it was in, frankly, a subservient role. Even as its now-owner, some things hadn’t changed much from when she was a waitress. There were always tables to clean after the lunch rush, an irritated customer who required a simpering smile and an undeserved discount to placate them, an empty mug to refill with coffee on an early Sunday morning when, sometimes, she’d rather be at home, curled up in bed with her alarm turned off, or making coffee and breakfast just for herself. In comparison, the way Alexis (rather frenetically, it was true) presented potential activities or restaurants she thought Twyla would love while also giving her the option to say yes or no herself was a level of thoughtfulness she hadn’t received from anyone in a while.

It was the kind of gesture that lightened her mood during chaotic dinner shifts and left her crossing the days off her calendar until she could see her best friend again.

And it got Twyla repeating to herself, _“Alexis will be waiting for you when you arrive,”_ as she entered the winding security line, passport in hand and a small smile on her face.

Though the Toronto Pearson International Airport was much busier than Larry Air ever would be, Twyla happily traded the inconvenience of traveling out to Toronto for flying in a plane with a trained crew, properly functioning seatbelts, and airplane wings that didn’t look like they’d been glued together by a high school shop class. She texted Alexis a few minutes before takeoff.

_Hey, you. Flight’s about to get in the air and all signs up til when we boarded said it should be arriving on time around 6:39. See you soon!!_

She tried not to grin at the almost immediate response from Alexis.

_Fabulous! Have a safe flight, Twy! I’m gonna walk down to the subway in a bit to get to the airport just in case you arrive early, it’s still sunny with almost no clouds here. Lemme know when you’re off the plane and we can meet up and get back to my place ASAP! I already got you a Metro card so we can just head out immediately. See you when you land!_

Twyla quickly texted back, _You’re the best! Thanks, babe_ before putting her phone on airplane mode as the crew provided a safety overview and the pilot announced they were all prepared for takeoff.

She shook her head in minor disbelief as she glanced out the window. _“If someone had told me I’d be flying to New York to visit Alexis Rose even a couple of years ago, I would’ve assumed that Uncle Randall had given them a bit too much of his apple pie moonshine at a Halloween party.”_

 _“And what if someone said you’d be calling Alexis Rose ‘babe’ over texts without even realizing it?”_ she thought wryly.

Twyla felt her cheeks flush as she pondered the question, grateful that the guy next to her had put headphones in and immersed himself in his Kindle straight away. After she’d realized she maybe had feelings for Alexis that night at the Wobbly Elm, the café had gobbled up most of her free time. Even though she’d spent some of that time texting or talking with Alexis, Twyla had lacked the mental capacity to contemplate their friendship too deeply. Or, more specifically, if it could evolve into an actual relationship.

 _“Don’t open that ‘is she straight or is she not’ door_ , _”_ Twyla warned herself. _“It’s never worth it. And anyway, Alexis’ sexuality, whatever it might be, doesn’t change the fact that she’s become something of a giver. Or at least she’s learning to sometimes give important things like kindness, laughter, compassion. Great fashion advice, too, though I think she always had that ability.”_ Twyla smiled to herself at that. _“And anyone who’s regularly trying to make themselves a better person can get my attention.”_

Determined not to overthink things beyond that so she could focus on simply enjoying her vacation, Twyla retrieved the latest issue of _Bon Appetit Magazine_ from her backpack and leafed through it, hoping to find inspiration for new dishes for the café, or updated takes on classics like Mozzarella Stix Madness. The cheesy chili toast she found in the “Spice up your Labor Day barbeque!” section sounded like a particularly promising and unique snack option that would balance out some of the higher-end fare they’d introduced to the menu recently. Her stomach grumbled a bit as she continued her reading, and she made a mental note to ask Alexis if they could maybe explore one of the farmers’ markets in Brooklyn to get some ingredients for cooking over the weekend. Fortunately, one of the stewardesses eventually came by with a bag of mini pretzels and a Mrs. Fields chocolate chip cookie. Before Twyla knew it, the plane was descending toward one of the runways at JFK. She couldn’t help but stare at the countless cars, skyscrapers, and pedestrians coming into focus as they descended closer to Queens; it seemed as though the city could contain at least twenty thousand copies of Schitt’s Creek.

After retrieving her suitcase from the overhead bin and grabbing her backpack, Twyla freed her phone from her shorts pocket and texted Alexis, _We just landed! Still waiting to actually get into the airport itself, though._ Eventually, the crowd at the front of the plane dispersed. Twyla steeled herself to enter a crushing mass of humanity as she exited the jetway, and while she had to fend off a few people rushing to catch connecting flights—or rushing to get out of the airport, which she could hardly blame them for; she was anxious to leave, too—it wasn’t as awful as she’d anticipated. She moved to a fairly quiet patch of a waiting area and texted Alexis again. 

_Got off the jetway, making my way to you now._ Twyla kept her phone in her hand in case she had to call Alexis and set off at a faster clip, trying to mirror the confidence of other travelers who were clearly either from New York themselves or had spent enough time jet setting around big cities to pass as local natives. Mostly, though, she felt like a frumpled, frazzled mess—Alexis hadn’t been lying about the heat, and her mini speed-walk had already got her sweating a bit despite the sterile air conditioning in the building. 

_"I could really go for a Meadow Harvest Smoothie. Or any cold beverage,”_ Twyla thought as she trekked toward the gate exit. _“Or a beer. No, yeah, a light summer beer sounds great right now. Really hope Alexis has some at her apartment.”_

She frowned, a bit surprised Alexis hadn’t replied to her yet, when her phone buzzed with a text: _Fantastic!! So glad you made it without any problems, babe! Turn left when you get out past security and I’m waiting there for you._ The message reminded Twyla of her travel mantra from earlier, and she couldn’t help but smile at that (and the fact that she finally encountered a couple of functioning people-movers to take a little respite from walking).

She followed Alexis’ instructions and spotted her pretty quickly—standing on tiptoe, pairing a searching expression and an oversized Gucci bag slung over her right arm with a flowy, white, short-sleeved blouse, cutoff jean shorts, a pair of bright red low-top Converse, and even redder lipstick.

Twyla wanted to call out to her, but her voice caught in her throat as she realized—not for the first time—that Alexis’ legs truly go on _forever_ and it should be illegal for anyone besides a stewardess to look that effortlessly gorgeous in a stinking airport and—

“Ohmygod, Twy!! You’re here!!”

Alexis ran over and pulled her into a fierce hug, nearly squeezing the air out of her lungs.

 _“Totally worth it,”_ Twyla thought to herself as she reciprocated Alexis’ tight hug. After what may have been a touch too long, the two pulled back. “Yeah, Alexis,” she laughed. “I’m here, with you, in New York City, completely ready for this vacation.”

“As am I, Twy, as am I,” Alexis rejoined, positively beaming at her. “Let’s get outta here—and oh, I brought you this,” she added, fishing a water bottle out from the depths of her bag. “I hope it’s still at least a little cold. I figured you could probably use some water with how toasty it is here, plus I always find that airplane air dries my mouth out.”

“Yeah,” Twyla nodded gratefully. “Thanks. Umm, so, where do we go?”

“We can take the JFK Airtrain to Howard Beach from this terminal, then catch the A train to Jay Street going towards Manhattan. We’ll get off there and transfer to the R to get to Brooklyn. There’s a subway station on Quincy that’s about a five-minute walk from my apartment,” Alexis replied confidently. “Just leave the navigating to me, babe,” she added, casually linking her right arm through Twyla’s left as they made their way toward the exit.

Twyla had opened and closed her mouth at least twice during Alexis’ explanation of their travel itinerary, and a worrying tendril of culture shock prodded at the base of her neck—after all, Schitt’s Creek didn’t even have any subways, and a decent number of buses that ran through town were of the “bachelor/bachelorette party bus” variety rather than a true mass-transit system. Alexis noticed Twyla’s hesitation and slowed her pace a bit.

“You ok, babe?” she asked.

Twyla nodded, feeling a bit dumb. _“How do you tell your best friend you’re a bit shell-shocked with her new home, but also pretty impressed with the fact that she knows the subway system backward and forward? Is that too weird?”_ Twyla swallowed her anxious thoughts and instead answered, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good, I think the heat just really hit me for a second. And I’m really glad you’re here right now, Alexis, because New York’s train system seems like a maze,” she laughed. “But it sounds like you’ve got it cracked.”

“It’s nothing,” Alexis replied, but her bright smile indicated otherwise. “I’m sure you could figure it out quickly.”

“It’s just a lot,” Twyla confessed. “Like…the whole city, so far, I mean, compared to Schitt’s Creek, and this is just an airport.”

“Well, airports inherently suck because they’re, like, liminal spaces,” Alexis answered. “It’s a stopover point. So while we are in New York City,” she gestured expansively, “we haven’t arrived at our final destination yet. So we’re kind of _here_ in a general sense _,_ but also _not here_ in the sense that we haven’t gotten to my apartment yet, if that was clear at all. And taking a plane and being in an airport isn’t like traveling in your car since that’s _your_ personal space and you can have snacks and music and you can take travel breaks whenever you want. Within reason, of course, assuming you’re not trying to smuggle journalists out of North Korea in the back of a transport truck. Anyway,” Alexis hurried on as Twyla gave her a questioning head tilt at that anecdote, “I’m here for you, Twy. Like, physically and mentally,” she reassured her. “And I get it. The city’s overwhelmed me a few times, too.”

“Really?” Twyla asked. “Even with all your international escapades?”

Alexis nodded. “Yeah, I was really thankful I flew out here like a week before I started work just so I could find my bearings and get re-acclimated to the amount of people here. It _is_ a stark change from Schitt’s Creek,” she admitted, “but I promise you’re in good hands with me. And, you know, I don’t want this weekend to feel like it has to be a crazy, big, expansive vacation for you. I’d rather it be about us. A couple of girl-bosses making their way in the world. NYC is just the backdrop.”

Twyla’s anxiety eased up as she took Alexis’ words in, and it was all she could do to not wrap her up in a bear hug. Instead, she flashed her most winning smile and said warmly, “Thanks for that, Alexis. I needed it. Let’s get going.” She strode ahead with a touch more confidence, arm-in-arm with her best friend. “By the way, can we order pizza for later?” she asked as they walked toward the Airtrain.

“Yeah, Barboncino’s does delivery, they’re sort of close to my place, and their pizza is the bomb. Are you good with a classic margherita pie, babe?”

“Yeah, that sounds delish. You know, I don’t understand why people sometimes want pizzas with all the toppings,” Twyla commented. “That guy I was seeing for a minute got a veggie-lovers pizza when we went to a new wood-fired pizza place in Elmdale, topped with broccoli, onions, peppers, some olives. And you know I love greens, but why would you turn a delicious pizza into nothing more than a vehicle for veggies?”

Alexis clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “What an amateur. Definitely not good enough for you, Twy. Pizza’s serious business, and I’m so glad you’re a purist. Sometimes David would be like,” Alexis tilted her head back, fixed Twyla with a stellar approximation of David’s so-familiar look of superiority, and gave a haughty sniff, to Twyla’s great amusement, “‘I want a _supreme_ pizza tonight, Alexis, because I have the most _refined_ palate in all of Canada,’ and I’d be like, I’m sorry, is a plain cheese pizza that honors its proud Italian heritage not good enough for you, David? I’ll happily do one or two toppings,” she added, “but putting on more than that turns the base of a pizza into an afterthought.”

“Yes, exactly!” Twyla agreed, and though their conversations about pizza, Bon Appetit videos, and potential dinners to make over the weekend were interrupted here and there as Alexis provided navigation updates and they switched subway lines, the trip to her apartment seemed to take no time at all.

“Hmm,” Alexis muttered as they exited the subway station and started walking toward her apartment. “What’s with all the texts I got while we were on the subway…ohhh, boy.”

“What’s up?” Twyla asked.

“Patrick has been extremely persistent in trying to arrange a game night. It seems he’s corralled everyone else in my family, plus Stevie, for a conference call later tonight to check in, supposedly, but he’ll probably have Jackbox ready to go as soon as my parents sign off,” Alexis groaned. “They aren’t exactly the best at playing board games properly, let alone trying to coordinate a Google Hangout while using an app.”

“Your mom _did_ kind of sabotage my murder mystery party because she was tagged as the killer and then didn’t show up after arranging the whole thing,” Twyla admitted.

“And Patrick and my brother can get a little bit competitive. Or a lot a bit competitive. I mean, I love them all, but they’re just a bit kooky,” Alexis fretted. “Myself included. If you don’t wanna deal with them, I totally get it, I can try and get off the call quickly.”

Twyla had dealt with a stressed-out Alexis enough times at the café to know what she needed. Though they could hardly stop walking or slow down thanks to the endless mass of pedestrians making use of the sidewalk— _“I’ll have to get used to that in a hurry,”_ Twyla thought to herself—she put a hand on Alexis’ shoulder. “Hey, Alexis,” she said softly. “It’s fine. I’d be more than happy to chat with your family and catch up with everyone for a bit. Honestly, I think we’ll feel a lot better after we’ve eaten some pizza.” Alexis laughed and Twyla almost subconsciously smiled at the sound. Trying to ignore the implications of that response, she went on, “And if we end up getting roped into a game night, you wanna form a team? If David and Patrick are too extra, we can always just quit, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Alexis nodded, running a hand through her hair to smooth it back. “Yeah, let’s do that. Thanks,” she beamed.

“Sure thing.”

“My building’s just up there, on the right,” Alexis nodded at it. “Lemme run ahead and get the door for you.”

“Look at you with the gallantry,” Twyla teased.

“Well, I _do_ want to be the best vacation host you’ve ever had, Twy,” Alexis responded with a wink and a sweep of her arm as she pulled the door open.

Twyla burst out laughing at the gesture, not sure if it was the fact that they’d finally arrived at Alexis’ apartment building (which, mercifully, had air conditioning), the knowledge that she’d soon be trying her first, official New York City pizza to sate her hunger, or that she was with Alexis, on a vacation that she wouldn’t have even dreamed of taking so many years ago when they first met, that was almost making her heart sing.

 _“Please, girl,”_ she thought to herself. _“You know it’s Alexis that’s making you feel this way.”_

And it’s the fact that she doesn’t try to explain her feelings away at all that makes Twyla to say to herself, _“You want to find out if your friendship with her could be something more? Do something about it.”_

That bold, wild, semi-reckless thought led to her replying, “I’m sure you will be. Thanks, babe,” as coolly as possible as she strode through the entryway. She kept her eyes trained on the floor, trying not to smile when she felt Alexis’ gaze locked on her as she walked toward the elevator.

Twyla turned back to look at her with the merest hint of a smile. “You’re on the third floor, right?”

Alexis simply nodded and pressed the call elevator button, but regained her voice as they got off on her floor and made their way to her apartment. “This is me,” she trilled cheerfully as she unlocked and opened the door. She immediately crossed her living room to turn her AC unit on.

Twyla glanced around at the exposed brick, what looked like an extremely comfy extended couch, and the cream colored drapes, among other tasteful amenities. “This place is gorgeous, Alexis!”

“Thanks! Feel free to drop your stuff in my room, Twy, just on your right. I’m gonna get myself a water and maybe a beer. You want anything? I’ve got mostly summer ales in my fridge right now.”

“Water and beer would be great, thanks,” she called. “Whatever brand of beer is good with me.”

Alexis popped by the doorway after she’d gotten both their waters and put them on the coffee table. “Hey, I just got a text that the pizza’s here. I’ve gotta go down to the front to pick it up. Make yourself at home while I’m gone, babe!”

**

Alexis exited her apartment and jogged down the stairs—sure, the elevator would have been quicker, but she’d set a rule for herself to avoid taking it unless she was doing laundry. Plus, it conveniently gave her more time to gather her racing thoughts together.

_“There’s not a whole lot to think about, Alexis. Twy flirted with you. Like, blatantly flirted with you.”_

_“Yes, thank you, I was there,”_ another part of her replied indignantly. Even so, she was somewhat surprised at just how casually Twyla had delivered that line. Or, more accurately, really surprised; she’d felt her jaw drop for a second as Twyla breezed past her.

 _“Maybe she’s just upped her dating game in general lately?”_ Alexis wondered. _“She did mention she was seeing that guy from Elmdale and that the bartender at the Wobbly Elm was interested in her. Though she could pretty easily get anyone in Schitt’s Creek without having to flirt because how could someone not enjoy Twy’s company?”_

As an admittedly biased party, Alexis hoped—more than she cared to admit—that the flirting was for her, and her alone.

 _“You’ve got it bad for her, Lex,”_ she told herself. She’d only managed to keep from greeting Twyla with “You look fantastic, babe!” when she met her in the airport because it would’ve sounded utterly disingenuous. Heck, Alexis often felt like she needed to do a face mask after traveling in a private jet for a couple of hours, which was worlds more luxurious and comfortable than a standard coach flight. But that didn’t stop it from being true, even though Twyla was only wearing a gray Toronto Blue Jays short sleeved shirt and black athletic shorts to go with her usual minimalist makeup.

She thinks it’s crazy, really, as she retrieves the pizza from Barboncino’s delivery person. Because she knows, or knew, IRL models, but compared to Twy, their attractiveness now seemed…manufactured. If they were in Twy’s body, they’d tone down and soften her cheekbones. They’d put concealer on some of the freckles that dot her shoulders. They’d insist on wearing heels everywhere for more height and pick out more belted dresses to accentuate her waist. All ostensibly useful beauty hacks, Alexis knows, but she senses deep in her bones that they would be mistakes (ok, maybe not that last one about belted dresses). Because, no, Twyla doesn’t possess typical, polished movie star beauty. _“What she has is better; it’s real, it’s hers,”_ Alexis said to herself as she got in the elevator to return to her apartment.

“Hey, Twy, would you mind getting the door?” she called as she approached. “Thanks, babe.”

“Oh my God, that smells amazing.” Twyla practically floated as she made her way to the kitchen with Alexis, who put the box down on her island counter, peeled the sealing tape off the lid, and crossed the kitchen to retrieve plates and napkins for them. Twyla opened the lid for her.

“Hey, Alexis? You know how you said you wanted to be the best vacation host I’ve ever had?” Twyla asked as she cut a piece away from the center to put on her plate, trying not to stare too hard at the cheese pull from the fresh mozzarella.

“Yeah,” Alexis nodded somewhat absent-mindedly, as she was consumed with selecting her first slice, as well.

“You’re off to a great start,” Twyla grinned as they carried their plates to the coffee table in the living room. “This looks phenomenal. And was the pizza delivery person extra cute, or something, or did you get some kind of discount on the food?”

Alexis looked questioningly at her. “No, why?”

Twyla shrugged. “You’ve been wearing this huge smile since you came back up. I was just curious.”

“Well…” Alexis took a sip of beer, needing a few seconds to come up with an answer besides _“I’m growing more and more sure that I have a giant crush on you.”_ Instead, she answered, “You’re in town for a long holiday weekend, and we’re about to enjoy some much-needed pizza for dinner. I’ve got a lot to smile about. Speaking of…” she extended her beer bottle toward Twyla’s. “Cheers. To best friends and vacations.”

Twyla grinned and clinked the bottle. “To best friends and vacations.”

They spent the next fifteen minutes or so in amicable silence as they sampled Barboncino’s fare.

“That hit the spot,” Alexis murmured as she laid back on the couch. “Or, like, five spots.”

“I thought I knew what great pizza was, but…” Twyla shook her head. “That sauce was delectable, the cheese…” she kissed her fingers in imitation of an Italian chef and Alexis giggled as she clambered off the couch.

“And we have leftovers for lunch tomorrow now,” Alexis added. “It’s nearly as good when it’s reheated.” She grabbed Twyla’s plate from the coffee table, stacked it on top of hers, and took it over to her dishwasher.   
  
“You want any help with cleaning?” Twyla asked.

Alexis waved her off. “Please, Twy, you’re my guest. I’ve got it. You deserve to relax, especially after traveling all day.”

It’s a little bit sad that she can’t recall the last time she’s had such an opportunity to kick back—after all, if Twyla doesn’t clean up her pots or pans after dinner, they just becomes future Twyla’s problem—but she’s hardly going to pass it up. And as she glanced around the living room while Alexis tidied up, she noticed…well, herself, actually, in one of the pictures that Alexis had framed on a small table near the front door of her apartment. Twyla laughed as she realized it was from that girls’ night they’d had at the Wobbly Elm ages ago—Mrs. Rose had insisted they take a few photos to “commemorate their stunning beauty, nourished by the fountain of youth,” or something along those lines. _“We’ll have to get a couple of pictures together while I’m here so she has an updated photo,”_ Twyla thought fondly as Alexis grabbed her laptop from her bedroom and then rejoined her on the couch.

“So everyone should be on in a couple minutes,” Alexis said as she glanced at the time on her phone. “Patrick said he’d start the call around 8:20.”

Twyla frowned a bit. “Oh, we’re doing a video chat?”

“Yeah, this was why I figured they wanted to do the game night, since Patrick and David can screen-share the game and we can also see each other’s reactions,” Alexis explained.

“Oh.” Twyla tugged at her shirt and knew her hair was a bit of a frayed mess, to put it generously, thanks to the heat. “I hope I’m at least presentable for this.”

“Babe, you’re beautiful, as per usual, trust me,” Alexis answered casually as she pulled up her email and opened Google Hangouts in a new tab. “Do you want any more water or another drink?”

Twyla froze up for a second and, before she knew what was happening, blurted out, “Do you—you really think I’m beautiful?”

Alexis noticed the change in her voice, looked up, and fixed Twyla with one of the warmest smiles she’d received in longer than she cared to consider. Not one of her flirty smiles; Twyla had seen Alexis aim her trademarked coy smirk at plenty of guys around Schitt’s Creek. No, this was one of her fully honest, open, sincere ones. “Yes. 100 percent. Absolutely.”  
  
After a few beats, Twyla _knows_ she’s been staring into Alexis’ eyes for much longer than could ever be considered just friendly, so she drops her gaze. Directly to Alexis’ lips. Which are still painted an impossibly alluring shade of scarlet, even after dinner.

The incoming call makes both of them jump on the couch, and Twyla hyperventilates her way through a laugh as Alexis fumbles to click the “Accept Call” button.

“I think I’ll get a beer and some water,” Twyla said, willing herself not to stand up too quickly. If her cheeks are burning red the whole night, she can easily blame the alcohol, right? “Do you want anything else?”

“Yeah, both of those for me, too, please,” Alexis called as she adjusted her laptop. Twyla returned to see Patrick and David, both looking dapper as usual, sitting together on their couch, with Stevie next to David, in one video tab. Mr. and Mrs. Rose popped up in another one about a minute later.

“Twy-la!” Moira cried. “So wonderful to see you, dear. How is Schitt’s Creek’s premier restaurateur? Have you enjoyed your first taste of the Big Apple so far?”

“Good to see you too, Mrs. Rose—and you, Mr. Rose,” Twyla added, as he gave her a cheery wave, as well. “Things are good at the café—really good, actually, we’ve integrated a few new dishes into the menu recently.”

“Ah, a rollout,” Mr. Rose commented, rubbing his hands together. “Or even multiple rollouts—sounds ambitious.”

David, Stevie, and Alexis all groaned. “I thought we had killed the use of rollout permanently.”

Stevie rolled her eyes at David. “At least you weren’t in the meetings to discuss how to roll out the rollouts.”

“That term _really_ can just stay in the past, Dad,” Alexis stressed.

Going on as if none of them had interrupted, Johnny continued, “I know a thing or two about those rollouts, Twyla, should you need any assistance.”

She fixed him with her best customer service smile. “Thank you _so much_ for your offer, Mr. Rose, but I think between our team and some of the marketing plans that Alexis has designed and helped us implement, we’re all set for now.”

“Well, we will have to sample your wares when we next visit,” Moira spoke up warmly. “We have heard nothing but positive reviews from our small, personal cadre of food critics.”

“The new options are great, and the portions are, as always, generous,” Patrick added. “ _Most_ people can get two extra meals out of the spaghetti carbonara, and I’ve heard that the leftovers hold up really well,” he said pointedly, looking at David, who responded with one of his standard eyebrow raises.  
  
“What? If you don’t want me to share your dinners, just _tell_ me, I’d have absolutely no problem with it!” David insisted.  
  
“Sure, and then Patrick comes home one day and finds that all the locks on the house have been changed,” Stevie chimed in, making everyone besides David crack up.

After they’d all recovered, Twyla piped up, “And I haven’t seen a ton of New York yet, Mrs. Rose, but,” she gave Alexis a small smile, “we’re going to change that tomorrow.”

“We’re going to the Strand, and maybe Central Park,” Alexis added happily.

As the conversation wound its way to each group in turn, Alexis found herself glancing at Twyla every so often.

She’d worried it might be a bit weird, having someone—even someone she likes as much as Twy—living with her for a few days. Except for when she’d more or less hunkered down at Mutt’s for a couple of weeks during their fling, David was the only person she’d shared her own, personal space with during the past handful of years. Sure, she’d hooked up with a few guys since she’d moved to New York, but they were only over for the night and a bit of the morning. Other than those choice Tinder interactions, she’d only had her work friends over for game nights on a couple of occasions. Alexis had gotten used to her routines and generally enjoyed her independence.

On the other hand, she considered, that independence sometimes crossed into loneliness. As much as David and her parents could drive her up a wall when they were living together at the Rosebud Motel, not _ever_ having them to come home to could wear on her spirit, a bit, too. They’ve stayed in touch with modern technology, of course, but it feels different, having Twyla next to her, sharing stories about the café and laughing along to Moira’s monologues, David and Patrick’s tales of their crazy customers, and Johnny and Stevie’s Rosebud Motel updates.  
  
It makes her apartment feel more like a home.

“Hey, Alexis?” David’s voice brought her out of her own thoughts after they’d said goodbye to their parents, who were off to bed, given the time difference between New York and California.

“We’re gonna set up Jackbox. Are you and Twyla in?”

She glanced at Twyla, who gave her a look that said, _I’m up for it if you are._ “Sure, why not,” she decided.

“Great!” Patrick cut in as he shared the game screen through the Google Hangout video chat. “Alexis, you know how it works, here’s the room code for your phone. Twyla, have you ever played Jackbox before?”

“No, I haven’t,” she answered. Alexis suddenly scooted a bit further away, out of view of the computer. Twyla glanced over at her and mouthed, _“What’s up?”_

Alexis just shook her head for a second and appeared to be on the verge of laughter. She put her index finger up. _“Wait.”_

“Ok, well, you’re in for a treat,” Patrick said earnestly. Out of the corner of her eye, Twyla caught Alexis mouthing, in near-perfect cadence, complete with hand gestures, “Jackbox is a game of games, so to speak, with party games that appeal to everyone.”

Twyla tried to keep it together for a second, but failed miserably when Alexis gave a chipper head tilt as she finished the second sentence along with Patrick. She quickly cut in, “Hey, Patrick, I think I’ve got the gist of it, but I gotta go to the bathroom before we start playing a game, ok?” She hit the mute button, made sure she was out of the computer’s frame as she got up, and nearly doubled over in laughter. “Oh my God, Alexis. Your impression was dead on, babe. Is Patrick like a spokesperson for this game or something?”

“His family lovesit. They’re apparently all into board games and doing escape rooms. It’s almost cute, how eager he is about explaining everything, but I can’t take it seriously,” Alexis laughed. “I’ve heard this spiel probably three times because he’s always roped at least one new person into playing with us. And then David and Patrick scare them away.”  
  
“Wait, I thought only David was the competitive one. Remember when you threw that party at the motel and he was livid because none of us played, what was it, charades correctly?”

“Ohmygod, Twy, yes!” Alexis exclaimed. “And Patrick is pretty much always fine, but if he loses a game in an upset, then he gets pretty irritated. He has this neck vein that starts going like,” Alexis flexed her hand tightly to illustrate, “and then you know it’s time to look out. Oh, whoops.” She scooted back toward her computer and unmuted it.

“Ex _cuse_ us, what exactly is going on over there?” David asked, sass ringing out from every syllable.

“Yeah, we want to play,” Stevie said, unconvincingly.

“Technical difficulties. God, David, relax,” Alexis lied confidently, tossing her hair back in faux irritation. “Stevie, how did you end up at their place for game night?”

“They bribed me with pizza and Merlot,” she shrugged before putting on a face full of false enthusiasm. “I mean, I just wanted to play a rousing game of Jackbox with two of the coolest guys in town!”

“We’re joining in now. David, again, please relax, if you can,” Alexis commanded. “Twy and I are going to be on a team together since she’s new to this.”

It was probably a combination of riding high on victories and Stevie making increasingly liberal pours of wine as the night progressed, but David and Patrick remained fairly laid back for most of the games.

As they played further into the night, Twyla and Alexis found themselves yawning more and more often. Finally, a bit after 10:30, Alexis said, “I think we’re gonna call it a night here. Don’t stay up too late, you hooligans.”

“Enjoy exploring New York tomorrow, you two!” David called.

Alexis yawned, “Th-thanks, David. Good night,” before she closed her laptop and turned to Twyla. “Well, that was fun, but…” she got up and stretched. “I’m just about ready to go to sleep. How about you?”

For some reason, sleeping arrangements hadn’t crossed Twyla’s mind during her planning process, but given the wave of exhaustion that was threatening to roll over her, as well, she figured she’d better ask about them. “Yeah, definitely. Do you have an extra blanket somewhere for your couch, Alexis?”

“Twy, you’re not sleeping there. We can totally share my bed, it’s big enough for both of us,” Alexis reassured her as she pulled the living room curtains shut. “I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I have to do my nightly skincare routine before I turn in or I feel like my day hasn’t actually ended. You’re more than welcome to join in, if you want. I just gotta get changed first.”

“Umm…sure.” Twyla’s not one for any sort of in-depth skincare regimen—she’s always sure to wipe off her makeup with a cleanser before she goes to bed, but that’s usually the extent of it. Truthfully, Twyla would almost rather just go to sleep, but Alexis sounded eager for her to participate and gave her a mega-watt smile after she said yes, so she’ll go along with it.  
  
“Great!” Alexis got changed in a flash, seemingly, and called through her bedroom door, “I’m gonna be in the bathroom picking out some of my favorite nighttime products. Let me know when you’ve gotten changed and I’ll bring everything out.”

It took Twyla all of a minute to change into her standard nighttime attire—an old Schitt’s Creek High School soccer t-shirt and gray athletic shorts. “Ok, Alexis.”

She emerged from the bathroom in a mint green, short sleeved silk t-shirt with matching shorts, carrying a basket of assorted jars and bottles of creams.

“Wow. I, uh, didn’t realize there was more to the world of nighttime skin care than cleansers,” Twyla observed. “And those pajamas are super cute.”

Alexis put the basket down on a chic bench at the foot of her bed and sat down on the bed herself. “Thanks, Twy. Now, come over here,” she patted the spot next to her, “and I’ll be your guide. So, you use a cleanser every night, then?”

Twyla nodded.

“Ok, and what else after that?”

Twyla shrugged. “I usually just go to bed, most nights.”

“Seriously?” Alexis asked. “Because your complexion looks amazing, babe.”

Twyla shrugged again, but felt weirdly proud, at the same time. “Thanks. Guess it’s just good genes.” Now that she thinks about it, most of her cousins (at least, the ones who’d never gotten hooked on chewing tobacco) look a couple of years younger than their actual age, so it might be true. 

Alexis pursed her lips as she contemplated what products to use. “Ok, so after the cleanser, we’ll just do a light toner and then an eye cream for you, maybe a night moisturizer, too.” She offered Twyla a cleansing wipe.

“Thanks.”

“And Twy, I didn’t know you were into soccer,” Alexis commented, pointing at her shirt. "What position did you play?”

“Midfielder,” Twyla answered. She realized Alexis had probably been asking to be polite and didn’t know what the term meant. “So I was—”

“You’re way tougher than me. I couldn’t handle both offensive and defensive duties, so I was nearly always a striker,” Alexis answered.

Twyla was halfway through applying the wipe around her eyelids to get all her mascara off when she stopped. She had a hard time picturing Alexis playing sports. Maybe because it was a pretty normal activity compared to, say, escaping the yakuza or getting caught up in the raw milk black market in Schitt’s Creek. “Wait, you’ve played soccer, too?”

Alexis nodded. “Yeah. I got into it when I was around thirteen—one of our family friends whose parents were more, um, present than my mom and dad would have David and me over a lot since their two kids went to school with us when we were mostly living in Chicago,” Alexis explained. “They’d signed their daughter, Leah, up for an all-girls soccer camp—they were better at arranging those sort of normal kid activities—that summer and I…I really liked her, so I figured I’d go, too, to have something we could do together. But…” she sighed. “I felt like such a weirdo for the first couple days since I was wearing brand new Nike athletic gear and cleats while everyone else had on old t-shirts or uniforms they already owned or whatever. And a lot of the other girls were already friends or had at least played together before, so I was kind of on my own when Leah and I were doing separate drills.”

Twyla felt a pang of sympathy for Alexis—she’d sometimes forgotten that she’d come from an absentee parent home herself, rife with a pretty sizeable chunk of loneliness. It certainly could’ve been easy for other kids to assume that “the rich kid” had the kind of easy street life they’d only ever dreamed about.  
  
“Did it get better?” Twyla asked softly.

“Yeah—oh, here, if you’re done with the cleanser, then it’s time for the toner. Let me give you a bit, if you could just hold out your hand, please, Twyla.”

She braced for a sting, remembering how she hated using the stuff to clear up small bouts of acne as a teenager, but instead, the cream was cool.  
  
“What’s in this, Alexis?” She held it up to her face a bit cautiously.  
  
“Elderberry, green tea, a tiny bit of witch hazel,” Alexis listed. “You can use it on both your face and your neck—not that you really need it, honestly, since your skin is so clear already.”

She applied a bit to her cheeks and nose, still a bit apprehensive, but…“This is really refreshing.”

“Right?” Alexis commented. “It’s like springtime dew on your face. Sorry, I should’ve given you a bit more—do you mind if I just apply it for you?”

“Sure,” Twyla nodded, feeling a tiny thrill that Alexis wanted to pamper her.

That thrill intensifies as Alexis scoots a bit closer to get a better look at her face in the warmer, slightly darker lighting of her bedroom and tilts her chin up with her left hand. “So I’m going to apply this to the outside of your cheeks and your neck.”

“Sounds good, since I really don’t know what I’m doing,” Twyla confessed.  
  
“Babe, you’ve never used this before, so how could you possibly know? I have to check the instructions on products more often than not.” Alexis made small circles on Twyla’s cheeks using the pointer and middle fingers on her right hand, slowly moving toward Twyla’s jawline on either side of her face. Whether it’s the ingredients in the toner or the attentive care she’s getting from Alexis—in the form of soft, purposeful touches that seem to say, _“Yes, Twyla, you deserve special treatment like this and I’m happy to give it to you”—_ that’s making her feel so relaxed, she can’t tell. More to distract herself from those feelings than anything else, she asked, “So how’d you end up getting into soccer after that sort of rough start at camp?”

“When the coaches put me up top as a striker because I was tall for my age and could run for ages,” she laughed, and Twyla’s close enough to her that she can see the corners of her eyes and nose crinkle. “I started off as a decoy, but Leah was really good about helping me practice extra outside of the camp. So one day, there was a scrimmage where someone on our team just booted a clearing attempt from close to midfield. Like it was absolutely not a pass, but I turned it into one by chasing it down. Went in, deked out the last defender back, beat the keeper from around the penalty box. It was…” she paused as she rubbed a bit more toner into Twyla’s neck, continuing to use slow but firm strokes. “Sorry, I’ve gone on, like, forever, and it’s so dumb, since this was ages ago, but that had been the first time in a long time that I felt like people appreciated me for something I’d accomplished instead of the money or the clothes I had. I just wanted to keep chasing and getting that feeling, you know?”

“Alexis,” Twyla said softly, “that’s not dumb at all. I totally get why that would’ve stuck with you for so long. The kind of high you get from achieving something you didn’t know you could do before is powerful. I mean, I still remember the last time I felt like that on a soccer field,” she added, wanting to share a bit of her own past since Alexis had opened up and shared a vulnerable part of her younger years.

She perked up at that. “Really? I’d love to hear about it.”

Twyla nodded, trying not to smile too big, but the sincerity and intensity with which Alexis listened to her was incredibly attractive. “Yeah. I…um, just a sec, should we move on to the next item? The eye cream, I think you said?”

“Yes! Sorry, Twy, I got totally caught up in my story.” Alexis capped the toner, put it back in the basket, and retrieved the eye cream. “Ok, so you’ll want to apply a bit on the fourth finger of each hand and then just do gentle dabs in small circles around your eyes, like this.” She demonstrated, and Twyla did her best to follow suit.  
  
“I think I might’ve used a bit too much.”

“You got nearly all of it rubbed in exactly right, babe. There’s just a little bit, um, right there…” Alexis scrunched up her face as she tried to give Twyla instructions on where the excess cream was.  
  
“Did I get it?” Twyla asked as she rubbed under her eyes.

“Not quite…is it ok if I just…?” Alexis motioned with her fingers again and Twyla nodded.

“You’re really good at this, you know,” Twyla murmured as Alexis gently blended in the remaining eye cream.

“It helps that I can see your face. And that your skin is so soft,” she answered. “Now, tell me all about your amazing soccer prowess.”

“Ok. Well, I last played in high school, and most of us had played with each other for at least a year or two outside of school in the town’s soccer league,” Twyla explained. “But I had crazy good chemistry with my friends Sara and Chloe, in particular. So we’re playing against Elmdale in a regional quarterfinal—”

“Ooh, high stakes,” Alexis commented.  
  
Twyla smiled at the comment. “Yeah. We were tied at 1 with maybe twelve minutes left in the game and we had the ball in their end, about twenty yards out of the box, I think. Someone played it to me—I was right-center mid—and I can still see Sara cutting in off the left side, making a run completely out of her position as a far-side wing. And when I passed the ball for her, it looked hopeless, like I’d kicked it into the middle of this crowd of defenders for no reason. But she just flew in and blasted a volley past their keeper. We lost in the next round, and that kinda sucked, but the feeling when we shut Elmdale up and everyone was raving about my pass and Sara’s finish…” Twyla grinned.

Alexis clapped her hands together excitedly. “Look at you go, knocking off Elmdale with your fabulous playmaking skills!"

“We could’ve used someone like you on our team that year, actually, with your long legs and your running ability,” Twyla mused out loud, blushing furiously as she realized she might’ve said too much.

 _“Jeez, Twyla, you might as well hang a sign around your neck that says ‘I want you, Alexis Rose,’”_ she told herself.

 _“But then again, how could anyone not want her?”_ Twyla wondered. She knowsplenty of guys in Schitt’s Creek had physically lusted after Alexis, and sure, she was…

 _“Pretty? Gorgeous? Sexy?”_ Twyla’s brain suggested.

Sure, Alexis was all those things. But she was also kind. Generous. Hilarious. Thoughtful. A great conversationalist.

Twyla remembered chatting with Mutt at the café a bit after he and Alexis had broken up, about how they weren’t really compatible because Alexis just wanted to _talk_ so much, and she can’t help but think now that he was a bit of an idiot, to say the least. How could you not want to hear Alexis’ zany stories? What would make you resist getting to know a woman with so much depth, charm, and wit? Why wouldn’t you want to share your thoughts with someone who drinks in every word you say and really listens to you?

“Um, Twyla? You ok?”

Alexis’ soft query jerked Twyla out of her own head. “Yeah. Sorry. I spaced out for a minute there. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to do the moisturizer before we went to bed, but we could save it for tomorrow if you’re fading out now. Did you…how’d you feel about all this?” Alexis asked a bit uncertainly.

“It was really nice, Alexis. I can see why you have this routine, my face _does_ feel more rejuvenated compared to what I usually do,” she admitted. And there’s something else she feels, but isn’t sure she wants to admit, at least not right this second: talking with Alexis, sharing conversations like they’ve been doing, comes across as much more intimate now that they’re together as opposed to just texting one another. And getting pampered by Alexis is an amazing way to end a night.

Twyla can see a bit of excitement light up Alexis’ face at her response. “I’m _so_ glad you enjoyed it, Twy! We can absolutely do this again tomorrow night if we’re not too tired from our adventures on the town,” she said as they made their way to the bathroom to brush their teeth, with Alexis carrying her trusty basket.

“Are we getting up to any wild escapades?” Twyla asked, half-joking, half-worried. Alexis hadn’t landed herself in anything _too_ crazy lately, so far as she knew, but Twyla didn’t want to spend the night, say, doing shots of Jager and having to defend herself in a bar fight with a pool cue.

Alexis put her arm around Twyla as they walked back to bed. “Not particularly. I mean, there might be _some_ intrigue tomorrow evening…” she winked at Twyla. “But it’s all by design. I’m, like, 99.9 percent certain you’ll love what we’re doing.”

“I’m sure I will, Alexis,” Twyla replied as they lay down to go to sleep, and she was surprised at the conviction in her voice. “I mean, this trip has been wonderful so far, and you’ve been so thoughtful about making sure I’m happy with everything, and…thanks.” She’s aware, again, of just how close their faces are. Of the fact that Alexis’ skin is glowing. That there’s definitely some kind of electricity crackling in the small bit of space between them.

“Twy. You flew all this way to come see me, of courseI want to make you happy,” Alexis reassured her. “And like I said earlier, I want to be the best vacation host _ever_ ,” she said, drawing out the “r” in “ever,” causing Twyla to laugh.

“You are absolutely meeting that goal, babe,” she answered. “Umm, can you get the lights?”

“Yeah, you’re all set?”

“Yep. Today was great, but I’m totally ready to sleep,” Twyla said as she stretched out. “Do we have to start our morning at a certain time tomorrow?”

Alexis considered the question for a second. “I’d say by like 9 or so? But if you need extra sleep, go right ahead, we’re not on a super firm schedule until the evening. I’m usually awake around 8:15 or 8:30 anyway and I have some alarms set just in case.”

Twyla yawned and stretched. “Ok, that sounds great. Could you wake me by 8:45 if I’m still sleeping then?”

“Sure thing. Lights are going out now,” Alexis announced, and then she crawled back into bed. “Night, Twy.”

“Night, Alexis,” she murmured as she rolled over. “Thanks again for everything.”

“You’re totally welcome.”

The day’s travel caught up with Twyla in a hurry and she fell asleep in about ten minutes.  
  
Alexis, meanwhile, had no such luck, as she watched the numbers on her alarm clock crawl to 11:37.

Her mind keeps looping the conversation she and Twyla had just before David and Patrick had interrupted with that video call.

_“Do you—you really think I’m beautiful?”_

_“Yes. 100 percent. Absolutely.”_

Alexis had managed to answer Twyla pretty quickly and coherently, but she’d honestly been shocked by the question. Not so much that Twyla had asked it, but that she’d seemed so surprised to be called beautiful. Sure, looks aren’t everything, but what were Twyla’s exes even _doing_ if she had to be reassured of her attractiveness?

So that was why Alexis had—maybe—been thinking about kissing her. The way Twyla had held her gaze for so long, the way her eyes had dipped to her mouth—it had felt a little bit like an invitation.

 _“You think just telling her she was beautiful with complete sincerity wasn’t enough to get the message across?”_ Alexis asked herself wryly.

 _“I mean, I think she believed me, but sometimes actions speak louder than words,”_ another part of her argued.

_“Then…you only wanted to kiss Twyla for completely selfless reasons? Like, just to show her she’s beautiful?”_

Alexis nearly snorted at herself for even considering that question.

She wants to kiss Twyla for a bunch of reasons—more than she wants to consider at the moment, because she does really need to get some rest for their busy day tomorrow—but they all sort of boil down to one thing: her life is better with Twy in it. And God, does she ever hope the same holds true in reverse.

Alexis will happily acknowledge that their friendship has incredible, basically limitless value. If she and Twyla just stay best friends, that would be completely fine. But they’ve shared enough sparks and charged moments within the past month or so for Alexis to know she’s not imagining them. That she’s not indulging in a baseless fantasy. That the two of them could maybe be something more.

Alexis still isn’t exactly sure what to think about these feelings she harbors for Twy, but she calms herself down by recalling David’s words from a couple of weeks ago: _“You don’t have to have all the answers right this second, or this week, or this month. There’s no right or wrong timeline.”_

 _“So I don’t have all the answers yet,”_ she reflected. _“But I have Twy next to me_. _For now, that’s enough.”_ The comforting fact brought with it some much-needed peace of mind that slowed the other racing thoughts to a walk, then a crawl, helping Alexis drift off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

It's been a while since Twyla's woken up in a bed with someone and really, truly wanted them there with her. Not that she's a prude, by any stretch of the imagination, but going home with someone is, more often than not, a post-bar, post-bonfire, post-drinking type of activity for her. While she's had more than a few fun nights that way, waking up a little hungover and having to either sneak out of an unfamiliar house or boot a guy from her apartment in the wee hours of the morning before work is never an ideal start to the day. Especially given how those same guys will sometimes show up at the café hours later to try and chat with her.

So when Twyla stretched, rolled over, and saw Alexis next to her, her normally flawless blonde hair a mess, her eyes still nearly weighed shut by sleep—it was a pretty welcome sight, all things considered.

"Morning, Alexis," she whispered, trying to stifle a chuckle as her best friend slapped a hand down on her alarm clock so it wouldn't go off at 8:30 and burrowed further into the covers.

"Morning, Twy," she murmured as she rolled over to face her best friend, still snuggled tightly in blankets. "You sleep well?"

"Yeah, the travel hit me all at once," she replied, keeping her voice low to match Alexis' volume. "You?"

Alexis nodded and yawned at the same time, and Twyla couldn't hold back a laugh at the juxtaposition. "I mean," she yawned again, "sorry—once I fell asleep I did. Gimme a sec." She roused herself from the bed, stumbled to the bathroom, and splashed cold water on her face. It evidently did the trick, for while Alexis wasn't moving at full speed after that, she wasn't operating in such a drowsy, slow-motion post-sleep haze, either. "Do you want to get breakfast or shower first, Twy?"

"I think I'll hop in the shower. What's for breakfast?"

"I've got granola bars, plain or frosted Cheerios, bagels, of course—a mix of sesame, everything, and plain—from Andrea's shop across the street, and grapefruits and bananas."

"I'll go for one of those everything bagels you've been raving about. Maybe some fruit, too," she answered.

Alexis nodded in approval. "An excellent choice! And I've got raspberry jam, cream cheese, and butter, so, however you wanna top it, go right ahead. You want any coffee? I'm gonna make a pot."

"Sure, thanks," Twyla responded as she pulled a towel out of her suitcase and contemplated what she'd pick out to wear.

"Of course! It'll be waiting for you when you get out. Feel free to use any extra shampoo or conditioner if you need any," Alexis said as she made her way toward the kitchen.

Twyla grinned at how nice it was to have someone else making _her_ a cup of coffee for once as she went into the bathroom. She was just about to turn the water for the shower on when she realized she'd completely forgotten to tell Alexis how she liked her coffee brewed. Rolling her eyes at her forgetfulness, Twyla wrapped the towel around herself as she exited the bathroom. She ventured a step out of it and called, "Hey, Alexis?"

Alexis was chopping up banana slices at the kitchen counter as she called, "What's up?" She glanced over her shoulder at Twyla, then did a bit of a double-take and asked, "Is there something wrong with the shower?"

"No, I just remembered, like, right before I got in that I hadn't told you how I take my coffee," she answered, suddenly aware that this is the most Alexis has seen of her since…well, the last time Alexis saw her standing in a doorway with a towel on, at Mutt's, when they'd been dating.

Alexis frowned a bit. "It's a splash of cream and a dash of sugar, right?"

"Yeah. I—sorry, I didn't realize you knew it."

Her frown flipped upside down almost instantly, in a way that was somehow simultaneously cartoonish and charming. "Ok, I thought that was it since I saw you make it so often at the café."

Twyla can feel herself blushing and smiling like a bit of a dolt because, really, it's just a coffee order, in the grand scheme of things. But she hadn't expected Alexis to notice it when they'd sometimes had the café more or less to themselves on some early weekday mornings.

One thing she _does_ notice now is that Alexis seems to be staring at her pretty intently. "Do I have eye crust that I need to wash off or something?" Twyla asked, gesturing at her face.

Alexis shook her head. "No. No, you're totally cool, Twy. I mean good."

"Ok. Thanks. And, thanks for remembering my coffee order," she added. "Well, not my order, but…you know what I mean. I'm, uh, gonna go shower, then." She retreated to the bathroom, trying to pin her finger on why exactly that conversation was so awkward.

The realization came to Twyla just after the first jet of warm water in the shower hit her in the back. _"Alexis was checking you out. And you asked her if you had gunk on your face."_

She let out a frustrated groan. _"Smooth, Twyla. Really smooth,"_ she told herself.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Alexis had resumed chopping up her banana, though with considerably more force than necessary. Like Twyla, she lamented her flirting ability—or lack thereof. _"Did I really say she was 'totally cool?' What is wrong with me?"_ she asked herself, then cringed at the internal question. _"Ooh. Don't go there, hon, that could take ages. Still,"_ she thought doggedly, _"I've flirted with Swiss royalty, Lorde, and Gillian Anderson. I'm not some hopeless wallflower when attractive women are around."_

" _Obviously not, self,"_ another part of her agreed. _"But you didn't know any of those people on the same level as Twy. And it's not like you were expecting to see her in just a towel at any point during this vacation even if you started trading kisses, either, so it's not completely crazy that you sort of froze up."_

Thatwas true. And while Alexis had previously categorized Twyla as adorable, cute, pretty, and beautiful, at one time or another, she hadn't realized—or maybe just hadn't admitted to herself, for whatever reason—that she was straight up _hot_ , too. Alexis was already a sucker for her freckled shoulders and well-defined collarbones, but she had a new appreciation for Twyla's taut waist and toned legs. An appreciation strong enough to short-circuit her brain, apparently.

"I gotta relax," Alexis murmured to herself. _"If there's one thing I've learned about being calm from conducting European hostage negotiations, it's that taking decisive steps toward peace is the best starting point,"_ she thought. To that end, she pulled up her "Easy Living" playlist on Spotify and closed her eyes after she started the coffee, happy to let Waxahatchee's soothing vocals and the scent of perfectly toasted bagels overtake her senses for a second. She was just pouring out two coffees when Twyla emerged from her bedroom with her hair up in a towel, wearing her denim dress, a cute classic.

"This looks like a lovely spread, Alexis," she commented appreciatively before grabbing one of the bagels and spearing a few banana rounds onto her plate. "And thanks for the coffee."

Alexis gave a nod to acknowledge Twyla's gratitude as she took a long sip of her own brew. After happily tucking into the bagels and fruit, Alexis asked, "Are you up for a trip to the Strand a bit later on after I shower and get dressed?"

"Absolutely! It sounds like such a wonderful bookstore. And I was thinking, are there any farmers' markets around here that we could visit before the surprise you have planned for tonight? I know we still have that leftover pizza for lunch today, but I wasn't sure if the surprise included dinner or if you had stuff for meals tomorrow."

"Dinner is included tonight, and there are a couple of markets within about a ten minute walk, if you wouldn't mind, that are open through the late afternoon," Alexis answered. "I've got some staples like chicken, potatoes, some peppers and other vegetables, but I'm not sure exactly what we'll have tomorrow."

"Well, we'll see what speaks to us at the market," Twyla suggested.

"Sounds good," Alexis nodded as she cleared up their plates and coffee mugs. "I'm sure we can come up with something tasty together."

"I'll Google some recipes while you're getting ready. Is it ok if I check out what you've already got in your fridge?" she asked.

"Ooh, that would help a lot, thank you! And go right ahead. _Mi casa es tu casa._ "

"Thanks, I just wanted to make sure there wasn't anything sensitive in there. One of my aunts got into wire fraud and she stored her cash in old Eggo's boxes in the freezer," Twyla explained.

"If you find any money in my fridge, it would be a pleasant surprise to me," Alexis laughed. She rolled her neck and stretched as she walked toward the bathroom, and if Twyla's eyes happened to focus in on the exposed strip of skin on her lower back, then sue her. She wondered idly if Alexis had any tattoos as she continued, "God, I'm going to feel so much better after showering. I mean, the coffee helped perk me up, definitely, but there's just something about being under the hot water and picking a killer outfit that gets me ready to go."

"You know you look amazing in anything, right?" Twyla asked.

Alexis tossed her hair and shot Twyla a grin. "You're too sweet, babe. But I have plenty of pictures from high school—like, when I was actually a teenager, not when I had to take a semester with Jocelyn—that would prove you wrong."

"Oh my God, I need to see some throwback Alexis looks," Twyla laughed.

Alexis put her chin in her palm. "Against my better judgment…I don't know," she drawled.

" _You_ brought it up!" Twyla protested with a laugh.

"Well, I suppose I can allow it. Only because you're so darn cute," Alexis beamed, punctuating the last three words with a twirl and a few dramatic steps toward Twyla to give her a trademark "boop" on the nose. She turned on a dime again and, as she walked toward the bathroom, called to Twyla, "I'm gonna try not to take too long of a shower. If I'm in there after 9:30ish, feel free to just bang on the door a couple times and I'll hurry it up."

Twyla just nodded, not wanting to draw attention to herself by speaking out. Because she should not be blushing this furiously over a mere boop from a woman who may be entirely straight. But she is.

She probably also shouldn't have needed to clutch the underside of Alexis' kitchen table to keep from reaching out and trying to pull her best friend into a fumbling, messy, coffee-laced kiss. But she did.

It isn't just that early-morning Alexis is more attractive than any half-awake person has a right to be, either. It's the little things, those small kindnesses she offers up that you could almost miss entirely, like remembering how Twyla likes her coffee. Or asking again to double-check if she wanted to go to the Strand today even though that had been more or less mutually Sharpied into their unofficial vacation plans.

" _If you're this crazy about her…it might not be a bad idea to figure out if she's interested in girls. Discreetly, if possible,"_ Twyla thought, though subtlety wasn't her long suit by a long shot. While she did want an answer to this new, fascinating question rather badly, something told her that abruptly asking Alexis, "Hey, do you like kissing girls?" wasn't the best way to go about getting one. Still, knowing Alexis, there'd probably be some crazy story involving a diplomat's sister that could invite certain pointed inquiries.

Twyla had a bit less time to weigh her options than she'd expected, though, as Alexis took a quick shower and emerged from her room in a matching aqua and white-striped top and skirt set, with a summery straw hat perched at a jaunty angle on her head. After they hunted down a couple of reusable bags for potential book purchases, they were all set. "Ready for your first real taste of the city, Twy?" she asked with a smile as they made their way down the stairs and approached her building's exit.

Twyla grinned back at her and looped her left arm through Alexis' right as they entered the hustle and bustle of the sidewalk on Quincy Street. "With you as my guide? Absolutely. Have you been to the Strand before?"

"No, this is my first time," she replied as they joined the crowd heading toward the subway station. "I've heard it's best experienced with a friend, so I'm loving this whole new journey for the both of us. I'm also not, like, the most bookish person ever, but I want to start reading more since I'm kind of burnt out on the Internet."

Twyla nodded. "Sure, I get that, since you're spending so much time on social media and doing marketing that way. Or is it more on a personal level?"

"It's a bit of both—I mean, I mostly dig my job, but trying to explain the importance of Snapchat filters to actors over the age of 30 can be a pain," she answered after swiping her Metro pass. "But personally, I just…I don't really need to broadcast my life and what I'm doing to everyone anymore, you know?"

"Yeah. I don't really use Facebook outside of keeping tabs on my family and you're probably the person I snap the most," Twyla answered as they descended the escalator and boarded the train after only a six-minute wait or so.

"Same—I've realized that if I need to call in a favor from Drake or someone, I can just text them, I don't need to post thirst traps to get their attention," Alexis laughed. "I remember, I think it was the first day or two after we arrived in Schitt's Creek and I was 'dating'"—Twyla laughed at her use of air quotes and her massive eye roll—"this Greek guy, Stavros, but we broke up pretty quickly. And afterwards, he posted a picture of a girl with a calf tattoo and a toe ring and I was royally pissed at him because we'd both agreed those things were tacky and then it was on his Instagram as if he suddenly approved of them." She took a breath and went on, "And now that I'm thinking about it…" Alexis shook her head. "Like, who cares? It was so stupid."

Twyla shook her head, too, with a bemused smile playing on her face, in slight disbelief that this was the same Alexis Rose who'd once scrolled through a rotation of Instagram, Twitter, Bumble, Snapchat, and TikTok for hours at a time and considered the café's spotty WiFi connection a personal affront to her general well-being.

"What is it, babe?" Alexis asked, matching Twyla's smile with one of her own.

"I was just thinking about how different your Tarot cards would be if I did a reading with you now compared to the one I did—when was it, about seven months after you and your family arrived?" To Alexis' credit, she'd taken the reading seriously at the time, but had been expectedly miffed when the cards suggested she had a self-centered worldview, causing her to flounce out of the café without paying for her smoothie and blueberry muffin. Twyla paused, trying to find the right words without sounding like one of the weird high school counselors she'd had. "You've really come into your own since then."

"Thanks," Alexis glanced down at the subway train floor and sniffed for a second. "You've helped me a lot with that. And I'm so glad you're here for this adventure."

"Me too," she smiled.

**

"Wow," Alexis and Twyla gasped simultaneously as they entered the Strand.

"I knew there were a lot of books here, but I still wasn't expecting _so_ many," Alexis murmured, matching the low volume of other patrons—a quiet, pleasant hum compared to the cacophony that permeated nearly every other part of New York City. "And this is only one floor."

Twyla smiled as she breathed in the delightful scent of old books, coffee, and pastry. "Any section you want to look at in particular?" she whispered.

"Not really. You up for wandering around a bit?"

Twyla nodded and they started perusing. As they weaved their way through increasingly crowded corridors, Alexis chose a particularly choked part of the modern thriller/mystery section to stop and leaf through a book, to the chagrin of some visitors.

"Alexis!" Twyla whispered; she'd stayed back a bit and had been looking at the inside cover of a book called _The Gifted School_ when she noticed Alexis blocking the way for other patrons. However, she seemed engrossed in her novel and wasn't picking up on their annoyance.

"Sorry, excuse me," Twyla muttered to them as she made her way toward Alexis, gently grabbed her by both shoulders, and steered her closer to the nearest bookshelf so people could get through.

Alexis finally looked up at that. "Oh, hey, Twy."

"Do you want to sit down somewhere and read that some more?"

"Oh, we can keep strolling for now, I'm definitely getting this," she answered happily, slipping the book into one of the reusable bags on her left arm. "It's a murder mystery on an Irish isle that's hosting this extravagant wedding and there's five or six major characters involved and it feels so _goth_ , like there's definitely some dark stuff at work that's gonna wreck the happy day…" Alexis somehow kept her eyes on Twyla the entire time she relayed what she'd read so far—complete with hand gestures—without bumping into any other patrons or running smack into a bookshelf as they explored further.

"For someone who said she's not really a reader, it seems like you found something that tickled your fancy."

"Mmhmm," Alexis nodded proudly. "And it didn't hurt that the author's a looker. Here, lemme show you." She pulled the book out of her bag as they made their way over to one of the many reading areas in the Strand. Twyla figured a dreamboat guy with movie star attractiveness would be the object of Alexis' interest as she opened the book to the back cover. Instead, she got a surprise. "A woman who looks that good while housing an order of chips and queso can get my number any time she wants," Alexis commented. "Plus her writing so far has been pretty captivating." She shot Twyla a sneaky smile. "What do you think of her?"

" _Well, I think I might've just gotten an answer to my earlier question,"_ Twyla noted internally, willing herself to keep her voice neutral before she answered, "Yeah. Yeah, she's pretty."

"Right?" Alexis enthused. "Would you mind if we took a little break for now? I could use a bit of time to sit and I think I actually would like to read this more."

"Sure, no problem," Twyla answered. She looked at what was available on the coffee table and a cover with some distinctly 80's yearbook photos caught her eye. "My best friend's exorcism," she murmured to herself, picking it up.

Alexis lifted her head up at the title. "Ooh, sounds interesting!"

Twyla opened to the first page. "Would you wanna trade after we each get through the first couple chapters? Your book sounds really fascinating, too."

"Sure, babe. Look at us with our little mini book club," Alexis commented as she executed a David-esque eyebrow lift. "Such high culture."

Twyla laughed at that and dove into her book, feeling perfectly content with her best friend at her side. "Ready to trade?" she asked Alexis after about twelve minutes. She nodded and they swapped texts.

Alexis gave a throaty chuckle after a few minutes. "I can't believe these teenage girls are having a sleepover and no one's suggested playing Twister to get a little _risqué_ ," she commented with a stage whisper, shimmying her shoulder against Twyla's for extra emphasis.

Twyla laughed despite the semi-disapproving stares from some of the other people around them. "That's what you did to liven up slumber parties, I take it?"

Alexis winked. "I was known to, on occasion, especially if it was a girls' night. What was your party game of choice, Twy?"

She shrugged. "I didn't go to a ton of sleepovers as a kid. Toward the end of high school, everything devolved into drinking games, as you can probably imagine. But…" Alexis had leaned forward eagerly at that last word—she truly was a great listener—and Twyla wanted to keep sharing, but noticed they were talking more animatedly as the conversation went on and were maybe irritating a few of the nearby book browsers.

She lowered her voice. "I'll tell you later when we get back to your place. You wanna search for a few more books and then head out?"

Alexis nodded and they set off to find more reads. Alexis bought _The Night Circus_ and _Nine Perfect Strangers_ to go along with the thriller she'd found earlier, while Twyla selected a couple of mysteries, _The Gifted School,_ and the first of P.G. Wodehouse's books in the _Jeeves_ series—it seemed like first-rate light, humorous fare to look forward to after the double shifts she still pulled. Alexis also wisely grabbed an oversized chocolate chip cookie from the Strand's café for them to split as they trekked back to the subway.

"So, I'm thinking we go back to my place, get lunch, and then hit the farmers' market?" Alexis asked. "That should leave us a decent chunk of time to just hang before we have to get ready for tonight."

"Sounds like a plan," Twyla agreed. "You still won't even give me one little hint as to what this grand surprise might be?" she wheedled, looking at Alexis with puppy dog eyes.

Alexis laughed and playfully swatted her arm. "Babe. The whole point of tonight being a surprise is that you have no idea what it is!"

"Fine, fine. I suppose I can trust you," she mock-pouted.

"Damn straight," Alexis answered with one of her mega-watt smiles as she easily linked her arm through Twyla's.

Alexis has always been a tactile person with her friends. It was the kind of love she rarely received growing up, with her mom and dad being reluctant to offer their kids pats on the back, let alone hugs, in the rare event they were even home. At some point, she decided she wanted to give that type of love away freely (maybe too freely, sometimes, in the past) because being touch-starved sucks. It's one of the few remnants of her rebellious, "be the total opposite of my parents" phase, but it's one she likes having. Theoretically, then, it shouldn't feel like that big of a deal when she casually slides her hand down Twyla's arm, past her wrist, so their palms are touching. Surely it's just smog—NYC's air quality is abysmal—that makes Twyla's breath hitch for a second when it happens. And there's definitely a rational, medical explanation for why her own pulse spikes when Twyla slowly, slowly laces their fingers together.

Without a valid medical degree (though she can cauterize wounds and stitch up cuts in an emergency), Alexis has no idea what that explanation is, but she's sure that one exists.

They eventually break contact to navigate what little standing space is available on the subway, and Alexis feels like a lovesick teen as she contemplates Googling "how to get a girl to hold your hand in a chill way" before remembering the train is underground.

When they arrive at their stop, it's just fate that causes Alexis to swiftly get off the train first. "C'mon, Twy," she urged, reaching her hand back to help her get free of the mass of humanity crowding the exit. And if she's grinning when Twyla grabs her hand tightly and murmurs, "Thanks, babe," as they head toward the escalator to get out of the city's underbelly, well, that's only because she's happy to be headed home to have some amazing leftover pizza for lunch.

**

After they got back to the apartment and finished up the remaining slices, Alexis asked Twyla, "Have you looked at any recipes for dinner tomorrow? No pressure if you haven't yet, and I could definitely try to think of a dish, I was just curious."

"Oh, I knew I was forgetting to tell you something. I was thinking of this grilled peach, chicken, and arugula salad with a mustard dressing or vinaigrette," she replied, pulling up the recipe on her phone. "Peaches should still be in season, but this is probably the last week when good, fresh ones will be available. They'll add a nice summery touch to the salad. It shouldn't be too hard for us to whip up, and we won't need a crazy amount of ingredients from the market to prepare it. Would you wanna make steak fries to go with it?"

"Sure, that sounds delish! I've never made fries before, though."

"We can totally do that together, it's not too difficult," Twyla reassured her.

"Great! Oh, and I have some vanilla bean ice cream, so if we have any leftover peaches, we could use them as a topper for dessert."

"Ooh, yes please," Twyla nodded eagerly as they got ready to go out to the farmers' market. The weather was on their side, as it was fairly sunny and a bit hot out, but not horribly humid.

"It's like a small city," Alexis commented as they arrived and got a small map from one of the market volunteers. "Where to first?"

Twyla consulted the map. "Let's get the shallots and the Dijon mustard since they're not really perishable, then go grab the peaches and arugula. And if there's any cheese vendors here, we could look at getting a small block of Parmesan to shave on top of the salad and the fries, too, if we want."

They set off toward the condiments, jams, and jellies section of the market. Twyla led the way, deftly dodging oversized groups of people clustered around tents and a few overzealous sellers while also finding time to chat amicably with a woman selling fresh-baked pies and a family that had been harvesting their own honey for nearly twenty years. Alexis trailed in her wake, a bit surprised at how easily Twyla had adapted to the large crowds.

After they purchased the mustard and shallots, Alexis turned to Twyla and asked, "How do you do this?"

Twyla looked up at her, puzzled. "Do what?"

"Navigate through all this to pick out good vendors and not get stuck talking to people for ages," she noted admiringly.

"Experience," she answered before explaining, "One of the really nice things about Schitt's Creek is that they've had these kinds of markets and farm-to-table events all the time. I mean, ever since I was a kid, even. And since I bought the café, I've been going to more of them and working with farmers in the area to get more local produce and vegetables and meats into our menu, so I'm just kind of used to it. They're all sorta like this, but on a much smaller scale."

"Well, I'm glad you're here with me, because I'd probably still be trying to get away from that Chatty Chad at the corn stand," Alexis joked.

Twyla laughed at that and Alexis swears she can feel her face light up at the sound. "C'mon," Twyla said, looking at the map again, "let's go get our produce and cheese and leave before I double back to the desserts."

"For future reference, when I'm not shopping with a farmers' market expert, how can I tell if peaches are ripe?" Alexis asked as they looked over wares from a couple of sellers.

"First off, you should be able to smell a sweet aroma coming from them. If you can't smell much of anything when you hold a peach up to your face, it probably won't have much flavor," Twyla explained. "Second, it should have a little bit of give when you gently squeeze it."

Alexis inspected a batch and picked one up, giving it a tiny squeeze. "Like this?"

"Yeah, that's a good one," Twyla nodded. "A totally firm peach isn't ripe yet," she added as she grabbed another, inhaled appreciatively, and put it in her bag.

"Visiting that farmers' market was a great idea, babe," Alexis commented as they departed with their ingredients. She checked her watch after they got back to her apartment, finished putting everything away, and settled on the couch. "I'm thinking we'll need to catch the 5:23 train to get to our destination on time, so we still have some time to relax before getting glammed up. And I want to hear that sleepover story you started telling me at the Strand earlier."

"Well, I'm not sure if it will be as thrilling as some of your tales, since there's no international espionage or anything, but…" Twyla smiled as Alexis leaned forward in a mirror image of her earlier pose, "The first time I ever kissed a girl was at a sleepover, of sorts, during my senior year of high school."

"Ohmygod, Twy, love that! Assuming it was like, a good kiss, of course," she added quickly.

Twyla laughed. "Yeah. I mean, it wasn't mind-blowing, but it was definitely nicer and sweeter than the first time I kissed a guy."

Alexis groaned. "Do all 12 and 13 year old guys across the world have, like, a secret book that tells them the best way to kiss a girl is to aggressively play tonsil hockey with them? Well," she went on after pouring waters for both of them, "set the scene, give me some details, if you please."

"Ok. Did your school ever have lock-ins?" Twyla asked.

Alexis' eyebrows furrowed. "You mean, like, shelter in place drills?"

"No, it was like an overnight party type thing we had at the high school during spirit week," Twyla responded. "The school basically hosted a sleepover with a bunch of activities. They had board games in some classrooms, video games or movies showing in others, the gym was open for sports, we got a ton of pizza and pop and snacks. It was sort of a big deal, like a fun way for everyone to get together at the end of the school year and hang out one last time. Plus I'm sure the town appreciated that it was a Friday night in early summer when there weren't some drunk, rowdy high school students on the loose."

"First of all, the small town carnival vibes I'm getting from this description? Fun as hell," Alexis noted. "And second of all…who was the lucky lady?" she waggled her eyebrows at Twyla.

"It was my friend Chloe, from the soccer team," Twyla answered, cracking a smile as Alexis gasped.

"So when you said last night that you had chemistry with her, did you mean both on the field _and_ off?" Alexis asked suggestively.

"Oh my God, I can't believe you just went there, Alexis," she laughed. "I meant about 90% on the field. And it's sort of funny, because that's where I realized that I felt something for her that was beyond the scope of standard teammate friendship. One game, I scored off this amazing corner kick from her to tie things up in stoppage time and I ran over to her and our thing when we scored a big goal was to do this, like, leaping hip bump, right?" She tried to act out the gesture on her couch and Alexis couldn't stifle her laugh.

"Ok, sure," Alexis nodded after her laughter subsided.

"And I don't know if she just wasn't ready for me to get to her as fast as I did, or what, but she didn't jump. And I'm in the air thinking, crap, I look like an idiot and I need to brace for a weird fall. Then Chloe caught me. And she was taller than me, but I was looking down at her in that moment and something in my brain just went, Oh. Hey. I think you like like her."

"Twy, you need to turn this story into the next great young adult book, it is absolutely _precious_ ," Alexis enthused. "So here for this teen girls loving girls representation. You ended up kissing her at the lock-in thing, then?"

Twyla nodded. "We—I mean, like, the two of us and some other girls on the soccer team—spent most of the night together, but when we were supposed to be sleeping, I just couldn't, it was way too hot and noisy in the school. I was going out back to the soccer field to get some air and Chloe was walking ahead of me. We just laid down on the field together, looking up at the stars, talking about what we were going to do that summer and then after. And a little bit later I noticed she'd turned on to her side and was sort of staring at me, so I asked her, you know, what's up, and she said, would I mind if she kissed me as a kind of special goodbye. That she couldn't explain why, but she knew she wanted to kiss me. And I told her something similar, I don't remember what exactly, so we kissed a few times and eventually went back inside. It was really sweet, now that I think about it," Twyla mused before taking a sip of water. "Thanks, by the way, for listening," she murmured softly after a beat.

Alexis fixed her with that same warm smile she had last night just before they'd hopped on the Google Hangout chat with David and Patrick. "Twy, you know I love hearing all your stories, right? You don't need to thank me for listening, I'm more than happy to. And, I'm curious…would you say guys or women are better kissers?"

Twyla mulled the question over for a minute. "I've never really considered that comparison before," she admitted as she started mentally flicking through some of her favorite encounters with both men and women, trying to hone in on the ones that featured exceptionally memorable kisses. As she did, a few images flashed to her mind—Robyn putting her leather jacket around her shoulders and using it to pull her forward, softly capturing her lips just before they got on her motorcycle; the way she and Chloe weaved their fingers through each other's hair as they made out near the bottom of the pool at that one grad party in August before college; even how Stevie gave her a gentle forehead kiss and a slightly slurred "kindest regards, Twyla" before kissing her firmly on the mouth during a late-night game of spin the bottle. "But now that I have, I'd say women are better kissers," she nodded. Feeling that it would be the charitable thing to do (not to mention informational), she asked in return, "What do you think, Alexis?"

Alexis nodded with a bit more enthusiasm than she'd meant to reveal, but, well…"I completely agree. With most guys, it feels like they just want to rush to get from kissing and making out to sex. And sometimes, sure, I want that, too. But other times I just want to revel in that kissing and making out part and not necessarily have sex. Or not jump to that part, like, immediately. It seems like girls understand that a lot better, in my experience, at least."

"Yeah. I'd say the same, I think. And women's touches during kissing or make out sessions are so much softer and comforting and kind of lazy, but in a really intimate way. Like, tracing patterns on your back or your wrist," Twyla answered, trying to keep her voice totally neutral, as if talking about the merits of making out with women was a completely normal thing to do with Alexis. "And with guys it's more often like, all they want to do is get your clothes off, but they forget your body is made up of more than this," she laughed a bit, gesturing at her chest. "I sometimes want to tell them, please, for both our benefits, touch me somewhere else once in a while."

Alexis nodded eagerly again and continued, "Like, the first time I kissed a girl, which would've been around my 19th birthday, it had all those elements. The good ones, I mean. And we were on a boat. Kind of."

Twyla managed to slip a word in edge-wise before Alexis got a full head of steam going for her story. "How were you kissing someone while being _kind of_ on a boat?"

"We were tubing on Lake Erie in Fredonia, near a friend's family cottage," she answered with a flap of her hand, as if that was a reasonable explanation. Which, by Alexis' standards, it was. "It was really rustic but honestly way more enjoyable than a lot of ritzy beach vacations I've been on at like, Sandals, where you can't run for a step without being reminded that excessive rowdiness _is not tolerated._ " Alexis rolled her eyes and let out a puff of air, to Twyla's amusement, then went on, "Nicole—she was the friend I went with; her family had the cottage—was there and we'd invited some other friends, but they bailed to go see Big Gigantic headline at some EDM festival in Columbus. It ended up that she was the only one I really knew on this particular trip. Her older brother had brought his friends, but they were a bunch of douches, so Nicole and I were just sort of hanging out by ourselves on the boat downstairs when someone suggested we all go tubing. Don't worry, the boat driver was sober, and we had life jackets," she added.

Twyla simply nodded. Even after several years of knowing her, she still marveled a bit at just how quickly Alexis could pack a story full of details and dizzying non-sequiturs. "And neither one of us wanted to be stuck alone with the guys so we agreed to go together and we'd _told_ Eric, the driver, or pilot, whatever, to keep us in the boat's wake, but the water was a bit rough so we hit the top edge of the crest on the side of the wake and the tube flipped. Naturally, Nicole and I, like, grabbed for each other after we resurfaced and it kinda hit me all at once, like, if you're clutching onto a really pretty girl in a bikini in the middle of a giant body of water, you're supposed to kiss her, right?"

"That rule is probably somewhere in the James Bond handbook," Twyla commented, deadpan, and Alexis laughed before she continued, "Anyway, we kind of _kept_ kissing after we got back on the boat and dried off and nobody noticed—I think her brother's friends were doing coke and I've always stayed the hell away from that—and it was just…" Twyla noticed a smile playing on Alexis' lips and tried not to stare. "Like, every touch and kiss _mattered,_ even though we didn't go any further than that. It was…"

"Luxurious?" Twyla suggested. She knows the type of makeout session Alexis is talking about pretty well, and she'll admit, it's the kind she's had more often with girls than guys. The kind where time almost freezes and you sink into your bed or couch slowly and find yourself entirely wrapped up in every. little. thing. you and your partner are doing.

Alexis clapped her hands and pointed excitedly at Twyla. "Yes, luxurious! Vocab word of the day from you, Twy."

 _"Screw it,"_ Twyla thought. _"You're this far in, might as well go the whole distance."_

Before she could stop herself, she asked, "Have you ever _dated_ any women, Alexis?"

Alexis shook her head. "No, most of my dalliances with women have been sort of random, happenstance things. Like, I ended up at this weird Purge-themed Halloween party outside West Hollywood one year and Ellen Page was there and one thing led to another and…" she shrugged. "That's not to say I'd never date a woman. The opportunity's just never really come up for me."

Alexis wasn't too interested in following in her mom's footsteps and pursuing acting in any serious capacity, but her experience in _Cabaret_ —limited though it was—thankfully gave her enough chops to fake her way through a calm, controlled response to Twyla's last question. Or, really, through their last twenty minutes of conversation. Because, yeah, she's imagined kissing Twyla once or twice before. And after their rather thorough discussions about making out with women, her pesky brain has started fleshing out the scenario in significantly more detail, like how she'd enjoy feeling Twy's smile brush against her lips right before they kiss and how receptive she might be to some light lip biting. She hasn't contemplated outright dating Twyla in anywhere near as much detail, though. But if they were to go on a legitimate date, or spend the day together as a couple—wouldn't it be pretty similar (kissing, making out, and related activities aside) to the the one they were sharing right now?

"Hey, Alexis, you mind if I put the AC on for a bit?" Twyla asked. "It's only 3:45 or so, so we wouldn't have to shut it off too soon before we leave, but I just wanted to check."

"Yeah, that's fine, it's a bit toasty in here," she responded.

**

After they spent a bit of time laughing at some of their less than stellar high school fashion choices—"I still can't believe you of all people owned and proudly wore a jet-black Smashing Pumpkins hoodie." "They were _in_ back then, Twy!"—and the general trends of the time—"Why were we all using ties as belts?"—Twyla and Alexis started on what the latter called "their beautification road trip."

"Hang on," Twyla asked as she pulled a dress out of her bag. "What's the difference between a road trip and a journey?"

"A road trip is shorter than a journey. So this is a beautification _road trip_ ," she emphasized the final two words with a little hip wiggle, "because we're already, like, really, really, really, ridiculously good-looking. Here, I'll let you get changed first," Alexis said, grabbing three dresses out of her closet and taking them out to her couch to look them over, "I'm not exactly sure what I want to wear yet."

"Thanks, Zoolander," Twyla answered with a chuckle as she shut the bedroom door. She felt a touch more confident in what she'd picked out, based on Alexis' admittedly loose guidance of "semi-formal, but more semi than formal is fine" for the evening. And really, there's no reason to feel at all worried, since she doesn't have to impress anyone.

" _No, you don't have to impress anyone. But you certainly want to impress Alexis,"_ a part of her whispered the key distinction.

Twyla doesn't bother denying it to herself. Not when she's playing "For You To Notice" by Dashboard Confessional on her phone like she had when her fifteen year old self had it looped on a knock off Walkman, hoping Tom Venturo would ask her out. Not when she's calling to Alexis through the wall to see if she can borrow a couple of accessories to spruce up her somewhat demure sky blue, short sleeved skater dress, grabbing a gold bracelet and a pair of elegant, dangling silver earrings mere seconds after Alexis replies, "Of course, babe!" Definitely not when she's remembering what Alexis has told her about walking confidently ("Hold your head high, tighten up your core, think 'murder,' and glide") and applying it the best she can to show off her figure and her outfit.

"Hey, Alexis?" she called softly. "What do you think about this?"

Alexis had been eyeing her potential outfits from just behind her coffee table, and it took her a second to glance up.

"Ohmygod, Twy!" she squealed. "You look amazing! Nice choices on those accessories, too," she added with a wink.

Twyla gave a curtsy. "Thanks, I borrowed them from my super fashion-forward friend."

"More like fashion frustrated right now," Alexis groaned as she hurried over to the couch to rifle through her dresses again. "I don't know what to wear and I need to pick out something soon so we have enough time to do makeup and still catch the subway."

"Can I take a look?" Twyla asked, a bit uneasily, as she was hardly the fashion guru in the room.

"Sure, go for it. Nothing's really speaking to me," Alexis pouted, her face creased with irritation.

" _Well, I'm not sure how to listen to my own clothes, let alone someone else's, but I'll give it a shot anyway,"_ Twyla thought. She glanced at a blue floral dress that was perfectly summery, but it would probably be a bit better suited for a picnic than a soiree on the town, so she cast it aside. Next, she held up a classic little black dress that seemed perfect for the occasion, but something about it felt a bit off to Twyla. It seemed like pure black was less Alexis and more David, and it struck her as a touch too formal. Lastly, she inspected a bright red v-neck cocktail dress with short lace sleeves and a bit of ruching down the front, hoping for good vibes. Whether it was the dress speaking up or her own innate sense that Alexis would look gorgeous in it, Twyla could neither tell nor care. She held it up to display. "This is it. This is the dress you're wearing tonight, Alexis," she declared with a small nod.

Alexis approached Twyla and took the proferred dress by the hanger, eyeing her with a somewhat disarming mix of beguilement, pride, and the tiniest hint of confusion.

"Wh-what? Do you not like it?" Twyla gulped.

Alexis cocked her head to the side and asked, "Was that an _order_ you just gave me, Twy?"

"N-no!" Twyla sputtered in weak protest as she turned beet red. "It just—" dear God, she cannot believe she's going to say this out loud—"that dress _spoke_ to me, I didn't mean you absolutely had to wear it or anything—"

Alexis cut off her zigzagging apology with a wave of her hand as she cracked up. "Oh my God, babe, I'm so sorry for messing with you," she wheezed through the laughter. "I totally get what you mean about the dress speaking to you. I've just never heard you be _that_ insistent on a fashion choice before and it hit me in this funny way and…oh, man. I needed that laugh," she sighed happily. "I think this is a good choice, truly, let me put it on and I'll be out asap," she added.

She drafted and deleted a handful of texts to David as she got dressed, almost for a record that some of the weekend's lovely events had actually happened more than anything else. These included:

_-I saw Twy in just a towel this morning. Spoiler alert: she's sexy. Happy Saturday._

_-Twy and I hold hands a lot more now and I learned she's incredibly knowledgeable about sustainable community farming. For some reason, I find this attractive? Please send help._

_-We discussed the perks of kissing girls in very! extensive! detail!_

_-Twy picked my dress for going out tonight. But it sounded almost like when a significant other tells you to wear something because they know you'll look amazing in it. I'm a bit confused and flattered at the same time._

It was freeing, in a way, for Alexis to let her thoughts breathe, to pour them out onto a digital landscape and acknowledge them somewhere outside of her own head. To give them weight. To realize that she's spent enough time deliberating and thinking.

She put her phone down for a second to check herself out in the mirror after adjusting the ruffled sleeves of the dress and grinned. _"Ok, I look fucking hot. Score one for Twyla's fashion muse."_

She cleared all her texts—not that David didn't deserve updates, but he'd surely reply to even the tamest of messages with several dramatic responses, and Alexis wanted to just enjoy the night with Twyla rather than (a) repeatedly answer David or (b) end up with at least 7 unread texts to respond to away from Twy.

She took a deep breath and typed out one more message. This one wasn't a recollection, it was actually an order for herself. She chuckled at that, given her recent exchange with Twy. Alexis contemplated how to phrase it for a second, then decided, _"Be direct."_

- _Kiss her this weekend._

" _Well, can't be much more direct than that,"_ she thought wryly. Even though Alexis deleted those four little words to no one just as quickly as she composed them, they immediately embedded themselves deep into her mind. And she didn't mind that at all, not one bit.

**

Alexis sashayed out of her bedroom, complete with jazz hands, much to Twyla's amusement.

Twyla beamed at her. "You look fabulous. Very much ready for a night on the town."

"Thank you, thank you," she bowed. "You made a wonderful selection. Ready to get dolled up before we step into the night and pursue a little bit of adventure?"

Twyla nodded, more than happy to trust Alexis' expertise in makeup—after all, she'd played no small part in helping Twyla feel confident enough to flirt and go home with that guy when they had their girls' night out at the Wobbly Elm. A laugh bubbled out of her at the thought.

"What's so funny?" Alexis asked.

"I was reminiscing about the last time we did this—it was at the motel. And now we're here in your apartment in NYC. It's quite the step up," she noted.

" _And I've never been less interested in getting a guy's attention when I could have yours instead,"_ she added in her head.

"I seriously can't believe we only went out together, like the two of us alone, just that one time," Alexis commented as she deliberated between a couple of eyeshadow options. "Would you mind closing your eyes for a sec, Twy? I want to…actually, here, let me get closer so I can get a better look." She crouched down next to Twyla, who was sitting on the chair in front of her makeup table, and held up one of the palettes next to her face. "Alright, close your eyes, if you please. Good. And now open them slowly," Alexis instructed, then grinned at her in the mirror. "Ok, I think we'll go with the metallic silver eyeshadow for a bit of pizzazz. It'll match your earrings for a nice, cohesive look and make your gorgeous green eyes absolutely _pop_. Sound good?"

"I like it," Twyla nodded.

"Great! Is it alright if I put some music on in the background?"

She gave another nod. "Sure, go for it."

"Ok. If you could close your eyes again, Twy—thank you," Alexis said as she complied quickly. "And here we go," Alexis murmured, like an artist making their first pass at a blank canvas, and Twyla willed herself to keep still.

She felt a smile tug at her lips when she realized Alexis had put on "Remember to Breathe." It only grew larger when Alexis whispered the lyrics, _"She always wears blue,"_ as she applied the eyeshadow with painstaking strokes that feel designed to maximize Twyla's beauty. Which, duh, that's kinda the point. But it doesn't stop her from feeling valued. Cared for. Desired, even.

"Hey, Twy?"

"Yeah?"

"You can open your eyes now, if you want." Twyla was about to do just that when Alexis added, "But I had an idea…" Twyla could hear the hint of potential excitement in Alexis' voice and didn't have the heart to deny her.

"What is it?" Twyla asked.

"So, I was thinking for your first surprise of the night—this would be like a mini one, I just thought of it—could I maybe apply the lipstick to finish up your look and then you could see how it turned out all at once?" she asked hopefully.

Twyla smiled and kept her eyes shut. "Sure, babe. I have total faith in your makeup choices."

Alexis clapped her hands excitedly. "Thanks! Don't worry, this won't take too long."

Even with her eyes closed, Twyla could easily feel Alexis flitting around her, testing out lipsticks on her hand, musing to herself about color combinations. She's still a bit taken aback by how thoughtful Alexis is during this process, how generous she is with her time and expertise.

"Let's see here," Alexis muttered to herself. "Alright, this one should do. It's not too dark of a red, but it'll serve as a contrast to the lighter blue of your dress and matches the color of my getup pretty closely, too." She started applying careful strokes of lipstick around the outer edges of Twyla's mouth. "Could you pucker your mouth a little bit so I can get a nice coating on the inside of your lip without painting your front teeth red? Yes, just like that, _perfect,_ thanks," Alexis hummed.

Twyla couldn't reply because she wanted to keep her lips still, but maintaining her silence also helped her focus on her breathing rather than the fact that she desperately wanted to kiss Alexis.

" _Eyes shut, lips puckered up, a beautiful woman inches away from your face…that would be enough to get to anyone,"_ she told herself as her composure crumbled for a second.

She scrabbled for purchase inside her mind and made it go mercifully blank for another couple of minutes until Alexis told her, "Ok, you can open your eyes now, Twy."

Twyla blinked her eyes open slowly, expecting to be no more than pleasantly surprised with Alexis' handiwork—not that Alexis would've done a poor job, at all, as she was something of a makeup expert. But Twyla's had enough makeovers and applied semi-gaudy makeup for nights out often enough to know that her vibe, to quote Alexis, ends up being the tiniest smidge off when she gets "jacked up," as if she's borrowed someone else's face for the night because hers is a bit too plain. Even when some of her girlfriends in the past have made her _look_ good—or great, in some instances—in advance of going out to a bar, a club, or a party, it hasn't necessarily correlated to her _feeling_ good.

Her hands flew up to her mouth to stifle a shaky gasp as she gazed at herself in the mirror.

It's not just that Alexis possesses uncanny makeup logic—the eyeshadow, or what Twyla can see of it near the top of her eyelids, does go well with her earrings, plus it's sparked up flecks of jade and emerald she's never seen before in her eyes. And, per Alexis' musings about the lipstick, the dark red color—not quite the shade of scarlet Alexis herself had been wearing yesterday, but close—definitely adds a deep, rich, saturated tone to counter-balance the bright blue of Twyla's dress.

More than anything, though, Twyla's almost struck dumb by how every bit of makeup she's got on feels intensely personal, as if it was all chosen specially for her. Not like she'd gotten dolled up for some nameless, forgettable group of guys she might meet at a bar. Not like her face had become a drawing board for the recommendations of some random online beauty blogger. Instead, she felt like herself, but sharper. As if Alexis saw her natural beauty, drew it to the surface, and amplified it.

"What do you think?" Alexis asked softly from behind Twyla, her hands resting on her shoulders. "Do you like this look?"

"Mm-mm." Twyla shook her head before she whispered, "I _love_ it," and beamed at Alexis in the mirror.

Alexis wrapped her in a half hug from behind. "One for one on surprises so far, then! I'll get ready and then we can head out."

Twyla guessed that Alexis probably had makeup templates for different moods or events, because she got ready in just under 15 minutes. As they approached her front door, Twyla saw the picture from their previous girls' night and it jogged her memory. "Hey, Alexis? Would we have a second to take a picture together?"

"Ooh, yes, absolutely! We've got time to snap a few." Alexis retrieved her iPhone from her purse and wrapped one arm around Twyla's shoulder, bringing her in close. They started with a couple of Insta-worthy selfies and goofy pictures. "Ok, last two," Alexis commented. They took another standard picture, but on the last one, Twyla shifted her gaze from the camera, turning and directing her smile toward Alexis, instead.

Alexis scrolled through her camera roll and gave a little "aww" when she saw the final shot. "This is my favorite one. Our poses are adorable."

Twyla hadn't expected Alexis to turn toward her, either, but she had, so they were both smiling at each other rather than the camera. She swallowed down the butterflies in her stomach—the ones saying that it looked like the kind of picture a couple would take during the course of a date night—and instead managed, "We look spectacular."

"Yes!" Alexis exclaimed. "Love the confidence, Twy. Now, shall we?" she asked in a posh accent. And, in what was fast becoming their standard move while walking in the city, she offered Twyla her arm.

"We shall," Twyla affirmed with a smile as she linked her arm through Alexis' upon exiting her apartment. "Though I don't know what we're shall-ing towards," she added, grinning a little as Alexis laughed at her comment.

Making Alexis laugh is kind of becoming one of her favorite things to do.

"Well, you'll see shortly," Alexis answered warmly.

And if she's staring at Twyla nearly the whole time they're on the subway, she can easily say it's just because she hasn't been to their destination before and she wants to keep her eyes focused on the map next to her.

**

Despite a significant portion of her brain being fixated on just how lovely Twyla looked, Alexis navigated them to their destination without any issues. The tiniest hint of nerves slid into her stomach as they exited the subway. _"Stop it,"_ she scolded her unnecessary anxiety. _"You know Twyla. She's gonna love this surprise. Right?"_

"So where are we going?" Twyla asked.

"I think you'll be able to guess when you see it," Alexis winked.

As they got closer to a theater and could make out the words on the marquee sign, Twyla stopped. "Is…is this it?" she asked excitedly.

A giant grin emerged on Alexis' face as she nodded to confirm.

"You got us tickets to a murder mystery dinner theater show?!" Twyla squealed. Without hesitating, she pulled Alexis into a tight hug.

"Good surprise, then?" Alexis asked with the tiniest bit of smugness. Despite knowing the answer, she just wanted to hear Twyla say it.

"Yes, the best! Thank you so much, Alexis!" Twyla exclaimed as they entered the theater and Alexis handed over her two tickets to one of the box office attendees. Once inside the main auditorium space, one of the cast members showed them to their table. "We'll explain everything—the crime and the background details, how we'll interact with you and the rest of the audience, and so forth—over the salad and appetizers," he told them. "If you like, feel free to mingle with the other guests before then or visit the bar for a drink. We'll be getting everything underway in about 10 minutes or so."

True to the performer's word, after servers came around delivering salads, the actors laid out the night's premise—that a new family wanted to edge its way into the ring of the elite Italian mafia in New York City. A handful of its members were plotting to surreptitiously take out multiple bosses at the dinner party.

Alexis knew she should be paying attention, but she got distracted by just how deeply Twyla had immersed herself in the experience, having already grabbed the pen and pad of paper from the center of the table to jot down some notes. The way she threw herself into things she enjoyed with an almost kid-like lack of self-consciousness was incredibly attractive.

After the introductory section of the evening wrapped up and they'd made small talk with the other four people at their table—two couples in their late 20s who were on a double date—Alexis turned to Twyla.

"I don't know about you, but if I'm going to be playing a detective from the 1920s or 1930s, I think I'll need a stiff drink," she commented.

"I'd been thinking of ordering a glass of wine with dinner, but a cocktail might be more fitting for the atmosphere," Twyla noted with a smile. "Pick your poison," she added as they got to the bar. "My treat."

Alexis contemplated the drinks menu for a second and asked, "Could I get an El Presidente?"

The bartender nodded. "Coming right up. And for you, miss?"

"I'd like an Old Fashioned, please," Twyla replied.

"You want to keep the tab open?"

"Sure."

"Thanks for this, Twy," Alexis commented as she sipped her drink; the bartender certainly hadn't skimped on the rum, but the orange grenadine made it dangerously delicious.

"It's the least I could do for you hosting me and setting this surprise up. I think this is gonna be a really fun night," Twyla answered before she tried her own cocktail. "Ooh, I'll need another one of these later."

"We'll have to keep our wits sharp, though, if we want to put at least one mafia kingpin away in the slammer for good," Alexis commented as she decided to get more into the theme of the night.

Playing along, Twyla answered, "Smart thinking. So _you're_ the Detective Rose whose adventures are burning up the telephone wires across town. You've made quite the name for yourself, what with tackling that bank robber into one of the fountains at Central Park," in an outrageous faux New York accent. Alexis nearly sloshed her drink on herself and only just put it down before she burst out laughing, drawing attention from their table mates, who were returning from chatting with another group of people. Despite that, she couldn't resist replying, "I am. I presume I'm speaking with the legendary Detective Sands who's been puttin' perps away for murder up north?"

"You presume correctly," Twyla bantered back with a grin. She went so far as to reach toward Alexis to offer a handshake before she lost it and cracked up, too.

Alexis noticed the other four folks at her table rearrange their chairs to put a tiny bit more distance between themselves and herself and Twyla. A few years ago, committing enough of a social faux-pas to incite such an act would have mortified her to no end. Now, though, she just thought, _"Let them. I don't really need anyone besides Twyla here to have a good time."_

They ended up having fun with the rest of their table through the entrée and dessert courses, in the end, thanks in large part to the well-constructed, well-written plot and the strong comedic timing of the acting ensemble. Their table ended up correctly identifying two out of the four mafia members who had arranged the attempted murder, and the rest of the audience caught the other two.

After the ensemble came up to the front stage and gave their final bows and curtsies, the theater director got up onstage and addressed the audience. "Thank you all for participating, we hope you had a great time and that we'll see you again soon. Feel free to stick around for the after-party—we'll be moving some of the tables out of the center of our space shortly to open up the dance floor. We'll get some jazz and swing classics playing to stick with the theme of the evening, along with some modern offerings and jazz covers of hit songs. Thank you again, and have a wonderful rest of the night!"

Twyla and Alexis applauded with the rest of the audience. "Do you want to stay for some dancing?" Alexis asked her.

"Yes, let's," Twyla responded with a smile. "It's only 9 now and it won't take us too long to get back home. To your apartment, I mean," she added hastily.

Alexis tried to hide the thrill that went through her at Twyla's words. "Alright. First things first, I could use one more cocktail, if you don't mind?"

Twyla gave her a tiny smirk. "I think you're worth the $10, Alexis."

After they got their libations, Twyla reached her glass toward Alexis'. "To holiday weekends and good surprises."

Alexis echoed the sentiments and clinked her glass. "Cheers, babe. Now, what kind of 1920s gals are we going to be tonight: the kind that sip their drinks demurely and wait for gentlemen callers to approach?" She nearly snorted her drink as Twyla wrinkled her nose in response to that. "Or," Alexis went on after taking a healthy gulp of her cocktail, "the kind that go out and cut a rug themselves?"

"Definitely the latter," Twyla nodded. "I think we should enjoy the people-watching opportunities first, though. I'd rather savor this drink than chug it or potentially spill it out there."

"Good call." They found a free, semi-secluded table for two, away from the edges of the fray, but close enough to observe the hilarity of a few of the more inebriated guests dancing with more gusto than was really required for a jazz tune.

"I've made some bold dancing choices in my day, but grinding to Sinatra?" Alexis pondered out loud. "That's a couple of steps too far even for me. Plus it's plain disrespectful to the art of jazz."

"The art of jazz, huh?" Twyla asked as she sipped her Old Fashioned. She wouldn't have expected the woman who'd released "A Little Bit Alexis" into the world to like such old music, but, then again, Alexis was anything but predictable.

She nodded with a surprising degree of seriousness. "I started listening to jazz at work a few months ago to block out distractions, and there's something about the improv aspects of it that helps me focus but in this kind of enjoyable headspace? Like I can be productive and feel semi-relaxed at the same time. So I've started getting into it more as just, like, regular music to listen to." After they'd let a few songs play while just observing, Alexis perked up when a version of "Somewhere Beyond the Sea" crackled to life over the speakers. Alexis got out of her seat, downed the last of her drink, and held her hand out. "Ready to boogie, Twy?"

Twyla followed suit and finished off her Old Fashioned before grabbing Alexis' hand. "As long as you don't break out a foxtrot or Charleston, I think I can keep up," she laughed.

Though they'd danced with each other informally a handful of times during _Cabaret_ , it felt massively different now that they weren't in any kind of an acting space. Alexis found herself a tiny bit breathless as she faced Twyla on the floor. Her lipstick had gotten the smallest smudge at the left corner of her mouth, and there were a few flyaway strands of hair that framed her face, but she remained absolutely stunning.

"Would you want to start off with a jazz square first?" Twyla suggested.

"Yeah, let's do that," Alexis nodded.

"Look out!" a twirling couple called from behind Twyla. Out of instinct, Alexis applied a bit of pressure with her hand on the small of Twyla's back, pulling her in closer and out of the way of danger.

"Thanks, babe," Twyla murmured, blushing a bit as they kept dancing. "This good for you?"

"Mmhmm," Alexis nodded, trying to both look at Twyla like a good dance partner should without _really_ looking at her because her eyes are sparkling and her dress is doing all kinds of favors for her figure.

Her emotions volley between disappointment and relief when Twyla spins away from her and they nearly relinquish their grip on each other's hands. But Alexis swears she can feel sparks on the tips of their fingers and she's grinning so wide it might split her face clean in half when Twyla glides forward to diminish the distance between them.

"Go on, your turn," Twyla nodded, grinning with an easy familiarity as Alexis took the opportunity to go into a spin herself.

**

They pretend that they meant to nearly lose track of time dancing the night away, mostly with each other, until Alexis checks her watch.

"Does the subway ever stop running?" Twyla wondered aloud as they exited the theater and a nearby clock tower's bells announced that it was 10:15.

"Nope, it's on 24/7," Twyla answered, rubbing her left heel as they walked. "Actually, Twy, would you mind if we took an Uber? It might take a bit longer to get back, but I could use a break from walking."

"Not at all," Twyla shook her head. "That was a ton of fun—both the murder mystery and the dancing—but I'm beat, too."

Fortunately, they got a car relatively quickly and traffic was a touch lighter than Alexis had expected, even with an unexpected rain shower.

"Oh, jeez," Alexis grimaced as the light drizzle turned into a downpour just as they pulled up near her apartment building.

"I think we might need to make a run for it, babe," Twyla noted. She reached across the back seat of the car and squeezed her hand. "Don't tell me you've never booked it for safety in the middle of a rainstorm while wearing an evening gown before."

"Not in several years, actually. But…fine, ok." They barrelled out of the Uber, Twyla still clutching Alexis' hand tightly, and ran down the block and up the steps to her apartment, thankfully without tripping. Alexis unlocked the door and wrenched it open, and the two of them ducked inside, dripping wet in the front hall. Twyla shook out her hair like a Golden Retriever after a bath, and Alexis did the same. After a second, they started laughing at the site of each other.

"We're a pair of hot-ass messes right now." Alexis shook her hair out of her eyes as they got on the elevator.

"More like cold-ass messes," Twyla commented with a shiver when they entered the apartment.

"You can totally borrow a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt to warm up, don't worry," Alexis reassured her as she opened a couple of drawers in her main dresser and laid out the noted clothing items on her bed. "And feel free to give me your dress once you get out of it, I'll be sure to hang it up by the heater so it starts to dry out."

"Thanks," Twyla nodded gratefully. She caught a whiff of vanilla and the slightest hint of honeysuckle as she pulled on the Paramore sweatshirt Alexis had left on the bed. Breathing in again, she realized with a bit of a start that Alexis must have worn it somewhat recently. She took in another deep breath, comforted by the light scent. Finally, as if spurred on by the feeling of peace and a moment of reflection on the day's events, a quiet voice in the back of her mind piped up, _"You know, you really should just kiss her."_

Twyla turned the idea over in her mind a few times, glad Alexis was still in the bathroom completing her nighttime moisturizing rituals. She smiled to herself; could it honestly be so simple?

After she got changed and Alexis did the same, they quietly padded to the bedroom. With a catlike stretch and a massive yawn, Alexis asked, "You r-ready to go to bed, Twy?"

Ok, not quite that simple, but what was waiting one more day? She nodded. "Yeah, I'm dead tired."

"B-but you had fun, right? This was a good surprise?" Alexis murmured sleepily through another yawn as they crawled into bed.

"Babe." The life in her tone caused Alexis to roll over to look at her, and, despite her own exhaustion, Twyla flashed her warmest smile. "I had a blast. This was the best surprise I've ever gotten from anyone, honestly. Thank you again. I'll have to figure out a way to repay you for it."

"You're so welcome, Twy. I'm sure you'll find a way." Alexis gave her a sleepy smile as she turned out the lights. "Night."

Twyla grinned despite herself. She had a feeling she _would_ find a way to repay Alexis—hopefully several times over—tomorrow. "Night, Alexis."

And, after softly humming the tune to "Somewhere Beyond the Sea" under her breath for a few counts, she fell asleep, too.


	4. Chapter 4

Alexis gave her past self a high five for turning off her alarm the previous night after she woke up. Sure, it was only ten to 9, so it wasn't like she'd slept in that late, but waking up on one's own was altogether more pleasant than being jolted into consciousness by a blaring, beeping clock.

Well, not that she was completely on her own, as Twyla remained fast asleep next to her. Not wanting to wake her, Alexis went to quietly slip out of bed to take a quick shower. Or, rather, she planned to, until she realized Twyla had slung an arm across her shoulders at some point during the night. She tried to extricate herself without waking Twyla up, but she heard a soft, semi-confused murmur from next to her as she rolled toward her edge of the bed.

Alexis turned back to her and whispered, "Morning, sleepyhead."

"Morning. Wha' time is it?" Twyla mumbled.

"Basically 9:00."

Twyla kicked off the sheet covering her, rolled onto her back, and gave a massive stretch. She was seemingly on the verge of getting up when she flopped her head back against the pillow.

"Someone's still tired," Alexis noted quietly.

"A little," Twyla conceded with a yawn. "I'll feel better after I shower. Is it ok if we don't rush out today?"

"Absolutely," Alexis reassured her. "I was thinking we could walk along the High Line later, it's like this greenway that was built on a former railroad track. Beyond that, our schedule is totally open."

"Sounds cool. Would you mind making me a coffee while I'm in the shower? I could really use it," Twyla murmured after she finally rolled out of bed and picked out some clothes to wear for the day.

"Definitely. Bagels and fruit good for breakfast again?"

Twyla nodded sleepily. "You're the best, babe. Promise I'll be more awake in, like, 20 minutes, and looking like a human."

Alexis had been about to let that comment go when she remembered what she'd promised herself last night. True, she'd flirted with Twyla for a lot of the weekend. But that was, to a certain extent, her S.O.P, and Twyla deserved more than that. On the other hand, Alexis had a significant amount of experience with guys sharing their feelings for her in the early morning and she generally preferred waiting to discuss such a potentially loaded topic until after she'd had a chance to wake up a bit, so she considered giving Twyla the same opportunity. Zac Efron had at least been kind enough to cook up chocolate chip pancakes and bacon for the two of them to nosh on before confessing that he'd caught feelings during their little winter fling.

Twyla walked back over to where she was sitting on the bed, her beautiful face marred by a touch of confusion.

"You ok, Alexis? You look like you want to say something," she commented.

"It's nothing," she muttered before backtracking and stuttering, "Actually, no, I just wanted to say…you know you always—"

Twyla's phone rang unexpectedly and Alexis ground her molars together at the interruption. "Sorry," Twyla apologized, "I don't know who would be calling me right now." Her frame drooped slightly as she picked it up, and she let out a small sigh before answering, "Hi, mom."

" _Should I go?"_ Alexis mouthed at her.

Twyla took the phone away from her ear and held a hand over it, but the gesture didn't entirely block out what sounded like a very concerned woman. "It's ok, we'll probably be done chatting in a few. She thinks I'm Angela today," Twyla whispered with a forced laugh that had none of its usual brightness. "Sorry, hi, Laura. Yes, I'm still here. You can't find your car keys? Did you check the kitchen counter, under the magazines? Ok, let me think for a minute."

This was clearly a conversation they had somewhat often, as Alexis watched Twyla bob her head from side to side for a few seconds before replying, "Could you have put them in the junk drawer? You're always saying your Nissan is a hunk of junk, that's why, just go check. They _were_ there? What did I tell you?" She shot a tiny grin at Alexis. "Wonderful. Where were you going, anyway?" Twyla's slight smile dimmed. "Oh, no, you can't visit her today. I'm in—I mean, Twyla's in New York City until tomorrow, remember? No, she's not running away to make a name for herself on Broadway," she laughed, this one ringing a bit true. "She took a trip to see her best friend, Alexis. Yes, that's right, the pretty blonde who works at Interflix." Alexis tried to pretend she didn't notice Twyla's cheeks turning pinker than the pastel Paramore sweatshirt she had on. "Twyla will see you when she gets back, though. And she'll bring you a couple of new dishes she's tried making at the restaurant for dinner. I think you'll like them." Twyla's voice shook and Alexis felt ill at ease—how exactly do you respond when your best friend sometimes has to impersonate her aunt to help her mom cope with advanced Alzheimer's? "Twyla will be there next week," she murmured softly. "Sure, I'll tell her. She loves you too. So much. Bye, Laura."

"Sorry about that. Mom can be a bit forgetful sometimes, that's probably where I get it from," Twyla said to Alexis after she hung up, a false chipper note in her voice. "She's not totally out of it, like, all the time, thankfully. It could be a lot worse; she remembers more things than you'd expect." She paused for a second, then quietly added, "Just not always the most important things."

Alexis sat down on the bed and wrapped her arms around Twyla, not entirely sure if there was anything she should say. Or anything she _could_ say, really, to comfort her best friend, so she just held tighter as Twyla leaned her head against the crook of her neck and absentmindedly rubbed her thumb against Alexis' forearm.

Alexis tilted her head down to look at Twyla. "I don't know if it makes a difference or helps at all in this case, but I'm here for you, Twy. For, like, any and everything." She wasn't planning to press a gentle kiss to Twyla's temple when she did, but it seemed like a kinder, more empathetic gesture than potentially empty, hollow words.

Twyla sniffed and looked up. "That does help. It always does, Alexis. There's not a lot to talk about with my mom's condition. She has her good days and bad days, and today happened to be a bit of a bad one. But just having you here is making me feel a bit better, so, thanks." She gave Alexis a semi-watery smile. "I'm gonna go shower now, ok?"

"Sure," Alexis nodded and somewhat reluctantly released her grip on Twyla, who gathered up her things. As she was doing that, though, she turned back toward Alexis. "Oh, what were you going to say before my mom called?"

"I was just thinking…" she hesitated at sensing nerves and a bit of tightness in her chest, but pushed through when Twyla gave her a slight nod. "You said you'll feel more like a human after you shower. You know you're attractive, like, all the time, right? Whether you're dressed up or just woke up, it doesn't matter. And that also goes for how you are just as, like, a person."

She worried her word vomit might have been a bit much for a tired Twyla to comprehend on the heels of dealing with her mom's struggles. Until Twyla got up and wordlessly pulled her into a tight hug. "Thanks for that, babe. You know the same goes for you, don't you?" she murmured before standing on tiptoe for a second to kiss Alexis on the cheek. Alexis felt herself freeze at the gesture as Twyla finally made her way toward the bathroom, despite the lingering warmth of Twyla's lips. She released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in and grinned a tiny bit ruefully as she thought, _"Well, you and Twyla have now technically kissed each other."_

" _That's not what you meant when you thought about kissing her last night, and you know it."_

Alexis rolled her eyes at her own inner drama queen. _"True. But that's coming. I'm pretty sure."_

Until then—she's started thinking about kissing Twyla as less of a possibility and more of a certainty and she swears her heart beats with an extra touch of frenzy at that distinction—she'll more than happily conjure up the memory of Twyla softly pressing her lips to her cheek as a nice precursor, deriving from it a shot of adrenaline that rivaled the buzz from her coffee.

**

Alexis got another jolt upon getting an eyeful of Twyla's outfit for the day: an aquamarine sleeveless top and black Bermuda shorts that must've had magic sewn into their seams, because the shirt is both a touch flowy and form-fitting and the shorts accentuate her legs and waist all at once.

In a semi-feeble attempt to cover for her staring, Alexis commented, "Love your look today, Twy! Casual chic is always in."

"Thanks," Twyla answered with the tiniest hint of a smirk at the delay.

A Chandler Bing-esque voice chimed in Alexis' head, _"Could you_ _be_ _any more obvious?"_

Twyla's voice snapped her back out of her own head. "And you haven't even seen the best part of this outfit yet," she said, smiling as she uncrossed her arms and slid her hands down into…

"Ohmygod, your shorts have POCKETS?!"

Twyla _knew_ Alexis' reaction to that tiny fashion tidbit would be over the top and yet, she still found herself nearly doubled over with laughter as Alexis quickly deposited their breakfast plates on the kitchen island before racing over to see for herself.

"You can actually fit more than, like, a tiny tube of chapstick inside them!" Alexis exclaimed. "And the shorts themselves are really stylish." Alexis could have easily gone on, but her stomach grumbled loudly, and Twyla mentioned she felt a bit peckish, too, so they had breakfast and started mapping out their day.

"I was thinking, after we go on our High Line walk later, would you want to try out this bistro that opened by Greenacre Park?" Alexis asked. "It's a more secluded spot than Central Park and fairly close by the High Line, so we wouldn't be trekking all over the city."

Twyla nodded as she speared a piece of grapefruit off Alexis' plate. "That sounds lovely. Would you mind if we maybe had a movie night tonight? Not that I'd hate going out, but I think I'd rather get to bed early since I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Sure, babe," Alexis answered cheerfully. "Honestly, a quiet night in with you sounds perfect."

"Great! And we can have some of that peach-topped ice cream you mentioned yesterday for dessert."

"Ooh, yes," Alexis hummed happily in agreement. "I'm also really excited to cook with you. If that's not lame."

"Why would that be lame? I'm looking forward to it, too," Twyla added with a smile. "There's something invigorating about taking a bunch of ingredients and making your own mark on a dish. Even if you use a recipe, you can make little edits here and there for creativity. And if those don't necessarily work out perfectly, then you've at least learned something for next time." Like when she tried adding lime into a lemon garlic chicken dish last week on a whim—after all, lemon/lime was a pretty standard flavor combination—and, upon tasting it, realized that the blend was best left alone in pop or sparkling water. "Plus it's a lot more fun when you can share your kitchen with someone," Twyla went on earnestly. "My cousin Eddie and his family would have a bunch of us over for make your own pizza night once every couple months when we were kids. The adults would help us knead the dough out, but we'd get to put on our own toppings and everything. His family had this awesome authentic pizza oven…which, looking back on it, was probably stolen and _that's_ why they would never take us to IKEA," Twyla realized out loud. "But the kids in our family would also chop up potatoes and vegetables and stuff for the sides on Thanksgiving."

"That sounds vaguely like coercing you all into child labor," Alexis chuckled.

"It was always pretty fun, actually," Twyla responded. "Plus it kept us out of the way of some of the guys in my family who'd bet big on the football games. They'd always put a lot of money on this team called the Lions because they had really good odds, but I mostly remember them losing. Anyway," she added, remembering something that would hopefully interest Alexis, "cooking with someone else is kind of an extension of two of my main love languages."

Alexis took the bait, based on how she quirked an eyebrow at Twyla. "Which are?"

"Acts of service and quality time," she answered promptly. "It's just so fulfilling to enjoy a meal with someone after you've made it together and I haven't had that experience in a while."

"I don't know if I ever have," Alexis admitted. "My family was never really into cooking before we moved to Schitt's Creek, and then we mostly were at the cafe. I tried to help Ted in the kitchen a few times when we were together, but he was sort of…particular about things and I felt like I was just getting in the way. So I don't want to, like, bug you while we're making dinner later," she fretted. "Or screw it up."

Twyla's reaching out her hand and placing it over Alexis' on the table before she even thinks about doing it.

"You're not going to," Twyla spoke confidently. "First of all, my style in the kitchen isn't too precise. Honestly, I could probably stand to follow recipes a bit more closely. But there's no way I'm going to boot you out of your own kitchen. Second, you're a better cook than you give yourself credit for."

"You think?" Alexis asked.

Twyla nodded, wanting some of her own belief in Alexis to breach her insecurities. "Absolutely, babe! You've made so many dishes on your own since you got here. Learning to cook takes a lot of time and practice and you're still sort of at the start of that…" she fumbled for a strong end to her sentence and the perfect phrase came to her. "Of your _journey_ in the kitchen," she finished, grinning as Alexis lit up at her words.

Alexis gave her hand a squeeze and smiled. "Thanks for the perspective, Twy. I'm gonna go hop in the shower and we can head out after that."

She nodded and raised her coffee mug a touch to indicate her agreement just before taking another sip, watching—ok, more like admiring—Alexis' retreating figure over the mug's lip.

Alexis glanced back over her shoulder and called, "See something you like?" before turning back toward the mirror hanging on her front door. She caught Twyla's gaze in it and winked, then stepped into the bathroom, biting back laughter at the sound of Twyla sputtering out protests.

" _Maybe make it a touch less clear that you're almost staring through Alexis next time,"_ Twyla chastised herself.

" _On the other hand,"_ she considered, _"if you do really want to kiss Alexis…well, showing her you like her can't hurt those odds, can they?"_

" _True,"_ Twyla admitted. She normally preferred having her objects of affection make the first move. Having a few too many dates over the years look at her askance when she suggested doing a Tarot card reading or shared off-color anecdotes about her family—you'd think guys in the Elmdale and Schitt's Creek area would be interested in hearing about how to more effectively gamble on minor league baseball games, wouldn't you?—had dented her self-confidence a touch more than Twyla wanted to let on, even to herself. And she _was_ a bit out of practice when it came to reading a woman's potential interest in her. But the touches she and Alexis have gifted each other, the laughter, the glances, all the dancing they did last night—you can't share all those warm gestures with someone in rather intimate, one-on-one settings and not have at least some romantic feelings for them.

" _Alright, then. You want her. You're pretty sure she wants you. What's next?"_ she asked herself as she moved to the couch and retrieved one of her books to read while Alexis was in the shower.

**

Twyla had her chance to answer when Alexis emerged from the bathroom in a dark blue off-the-shoulder dress with billowy, floral sleeves and her trademark dark red lipstick and asked, "What do you think of this look, Twy? I haven't worn this dress in a while and I'm debating donating it or giving it to one of my work friends."

Twyla took a second to gather her thoughts, wanting to reply with something more substantial than just a simple, "You look great." She wanted to show Alexis that she noticed and, more importantly, harbored a great appreciation for her style. Willing herself to think more like Alexis—not the easiest thing in the world to do, honestly—Twyla started verbalizing her answer. "You should keep it. The dark blue compliments your skin tone well and it frames your body really nicely without being too tight."

Alexis was gazing at Twyla as if she was seeing her in a new light and hanging onto every word like they were the only stable threads of an untied bungee. And her small smile revealed the tiniest hint of surprise at Twy's somewhat in-depth assessment. "Thanks, babe." She started walking to her bedroom—probably to retrieve another hat for their walk—when Twyla shocked herself because she had a bit more to say on the subject of the dress and holy Schitt's Creek, _where_ was all this fashion insight coming from? "Plus this dress definitely draws the eyes to your shoulders, like it's designed to, but it's not overly revealing."

Alexis put a hand on her hip and bit her lower lip for a hint of a second, for so little time that Twyla wasn't sure it actually happened. But the way her eyes popped confirm that it did. "So, like…just the right amount of teasing, then, you think?" Alexis practically purred the question out and Twyla willed herself to not melt into the couch. She even managed a nod and somehow kept talking.

"And I think it's versatile enough that you could either throw it on for a casual day out like today or upstyle it." Twyla paused to take a breath (ok, so maybe it's not as hard as she expected to channel Alexis while discussing fashion) and felt her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red because Alexis was now batting her eyelashes in addition to giving Twyla her best Cheshire cat grin. It was truly unfair how she could flirt so well both verbally and non-verbally. A national injustice, really. "Like, if you paired it with some accessories for a party, you could definitely rock it. So…yeah. It's a nice dress," she concluded, trying to inject a note of levity into her last sentence and feeling like she was back in her senior year speech class in high school. As if she didn't just spend what felt like an hour going into meticulous detail about all the ways Alexis Rose could look positively stunning in a simple dress.

"So you think it's just nice, then?" Alexis asked, showing off her relation to David with a massive smirk to go along with her seemingly harmless question.

"Yep." Twyla nodded, hoping she would maybe stop blushing by December.

"Well, I'm not sure you gave me _quite_ enough information to get me to keep it…" Alexis drawled as she took a few steps toward Twyla. "Like, what if I don't want to go out right now?" she asked, as she settled next to Twyla on the couch.

Twyla's brain finally caught up. "Why?" she asked, in more of a statement, a demand, than a question.

"Because…" after her heavy flirting, Alexis seemed a bit taken aback by Twyla's tone, even as she took both of Twyla's hands in her own. But her eyes—flickering rapid-fire between Twyla's stunning green eyes and those light pink lips she's dreamed about kissing for more of the weekend than she'll cop to—gave it away. "I was wondering…" she started asking, as she dipped her head a bit toward Twyla's. "I mean, would it be alright if…" she took a breath, held it for a second, and released it before whispering, with more conviction than she'd ever given to anything, " _Twy._ Can I please kiss you?"

Twyla ate up her gaze, trying and failing to figure out how one little syllable could make her come so undone. How it told her everything Alexis wanted. How it made it crystal clear that _she_ was what Alexis wanted even before she'd actually asked the rest of her question.

"Yes," she whispered in a throaty tone that sent goosebumps flying down Alexis' spine. She leaned forward so they were gently touching foreheads.

Even though Twyla knew what was about to happen, she wanted—no, needed—to speak it into existence. "Yes, Alexis," she murmured. "Kiss me."

Alexis pulls her close by the waist and breathes out "Oh, thank _God_. _"_ She gets rewarded with a breathy laugh and the feeling of Twyla's smile against her lips—even better than she'd imagined _—_ before sinking into a first kiss that surpasses all her expectations. It's tender and sweet, of course. She'd expected that from Twyla.

She wasn't prepared for Twyla to singe her skin with her touches and set her on fire with her kiss. And Twyla wasn't quite ready for the sheer _need_ Alexis transposed through her mouth.

They broke apart only to breathe.

Alexis didn't feel like they'd just gone through one of those overly hungry, awkward teenager first kisses, but it definitely wasn't just for fun, either. It was more than she'd felt with Mutt after they got past all their tension. Heck, even more than she'd felt with _Ted_ on the second or third iteration of their first kiss, and she couldn't keep from murmuring, "Wow," as she glanced over at Twyla.

She also couldn't help but admire her own handiwork in the form of Twyla's blown pupils. Her slightly ragged breathing. The extra bit of redness that colored her lips. Most of all, she revels in Twyla's eyes, how's she somehow gazing at Alexis with light and warmth while also looking like she could just devour her all at once.

"Same to you," Twyla murmured approvingly, eliciting a peal of laughter from Alexis, who pressed a kiss to her forehead before lowering her lips back to Twyla's.

Alexis parted her lips a bit more, asking or maybe insisting on deepening the kiss further, and Twyla happily obliged, giving Alexis the merest taste of a dirty French kiss before capturing her bottom lip with a light bite before pulling back a bit with her teeth. Alexis moaned into Twyla at the move and slid closer to her on the couch, tracing circles along her neck and down toward her collarbone with her thumb, staying there when she felt Twyla's breath hitch in her mouth.

They both pulled back again after exchanging a few, final breathless kisses.

Twyla's not sure if she's _ever_ going to wipe this idiotic grin off her face. If that's her cross to bear in exchange for getting to kiss Alexis Rose, she'll happily cope with it.

"So, um…" Alexis scooted back a tiny bit to avoid more or less sitting in Twyla's lap. She wanted to ask Twyla about the possibility of still going to the High Line, but her brain had understandably fogged up.

"Just a sec," Twyla interrupted, getting up and pressing a quick, chaste kiss to her lips as she did. "I could really use some water after…" she trailed off and chuckled. "Do you want some?"

"Yes, please," Alexis answered. She gave Twyla a confused look when she came back with just one glass.

"I figured we could share," she explained. "Honestly, if we had any germs, we definitely just gave them to each other, anyway."

Alexis laughed at that before taking a sip and felt like they were returning toward normalcy.

Or maybe embarking toward a new normal where she and Twyla kiss and make out with each other.

Yeah, that definitely sounds better.

"So, I was wondering," she began, grinning as Twyla leaned against her. "Would you still want to take our walk along the High Line and then go about the rest of our date? I mean, _day,"_ she corrected herself quickly, blushing furiously as Twyla smirked at her. "Not that I don't want to keep kissing you, babe. Like, I really, really, want to _just_ do that some more. But…" she sighed, looking for the best way to put it.

As she should have expected, Twyla was on the same wavelength and correctly filled in the blank. "You're worried that you won't be able to stop?"

Alexis nodded and Twyla let out a breath. "Okay, I'm kinda glad to hear that, honestly, because I was feeling the same way and didn't want to come off as a horny teenager. And I totally feel the same way about wanting to keep kissing you. But I also do want to go visit the High Line and that bistro."

"Wonderful! I'm just gonna go grab a hat and we'll be off in a jiffy. Oh, and Twy?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I'm gonna keep this dress," Alexis commented, grinning before capturing Twyla's lips once more. "I kinda just got to make out with my gorgeous best friend while wearing it, so." She gave Twyla a "boop" on her nose and got up. "And for all those wonderful reasons you listed earlier, about how it makes my shoulders look good, it clings to my figure, et cetera."

Twyla shook her head. "I honestly think I blacked out for a second and went stream of consciousness when I said all that. You're not gonna let me live it down, are you?"

"Nope," Alexis answered smugly, catching Twyla by the hand as they met by the door.

"Ah well," Twyla shrugged, stood on her tiptoes, and shared another kiss with Alexis just before they departed. "I've got a feeling I can live with that."

They took their leave for their next adventure of the weekend in style, hand-in-hand and starry-eyed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies if I botched any of the Tarot card section. I did some research on it while writing this section to try and create a feasible reading for Twyla and Alexis to conduct. Any inaccuracies or misrepresentations are entirely my own.

Twyla's probably given and received twenty-something first kisses in her life. A decent chunk of them were forceful, hungry, the semi-typical result of a late night out in Schitt's Creek. Others were tamer and gentler, like the one she'd had with Mutt. A few were unexpected, like when she and Chloe had kissed while laying on the soccer field. And some were the culmination of weeks of anticipation, a fulfillment of previously unspoken but mutually shared desire, like when she'd impulsively steered Robyn up against a bookshelf and kissed her in the stacks of the Schitt's Creek Public Library during their third date.

Twyla considered herself lucky—she'd only had a few truly bad first kisses with overeager guys. She's nearly always harbored a handful of excitement for that milestone, even if it's only a precursor to a one night stand. And she's had her fair share of stellar first kisses that have left her wanting more or gotten her to replay the moment in her head a few times on the drive home after a date.

None of them compare to the way her first kiss with Alexis electrified her body like a live wire. None of the anticipation of previous first kisses had made her heart nearly stop and then restart, beating a frenzied double-time pace, like it had when she'd finally realized why exactly Alexis was flirting with her.

" _Physical touch isn't everything in a relationship, though. Or…whatever this may or may not turn out to be,"_ her voice of reason chimed in.

Twyla dismissed the concern easily. _"Alexis and I will figure that out. And I'm absolutely not just into her because she's ridiculously attractive. Really, who she's becoming has me more enamored with her than anything."_ The entire Rose clan had grown up during their trials and tribulations in her small hometown, but Alexis' emotional development and killer work ethic had endeared her to Twyla as a friend well before she'd even considered the possibility of…

" _Of what? Dating her?"_ her brain suggested.

Her stomach dropped a bit as she recalled how Ted and Alexis had struggled with the whole long-distance relationship situation. But, then again, their lives had literally been split across the equator, whereas she and Alexis were separated by, at most, a day of travel by train, or a relatively short airplane ride. And Twyla couldn't deny that she wanted to stay a part of Alexis' life. Maybe in a more intimate way than she'd previously considered. When she glanced over at Alexis as they got on the subway and noticed her usually pristine lipstick had smudged a bit on her lower lip, in the spot where Twyla had given her a love bite, she felt a proud spark of possessiveness. That she'd secretly marked Alexis as hers.

" _Again, don't you think referring to Alexis as 'yours' might be jumping the gun a bit here?"_ her annoyingly stoic voice of reason piped up.

" _Again, I'll ask Alexis about this,"_ she replied to herself, a touch sharply. _"Where we are, where we might be going in terms of our relationship. I just need to figure out how to do that first."_

Her concern must have come across on her face, because Alexis asked, "You ok, babe?" as soon as they'd exited the subway.

"Not exactly. I kind of got stuck in my own head worrying about things that may or may not happen."

Alexis frowned. "What is it?"

Twyla froze up for a second. Answering that question honestly—"I'm trying to figure out if our friendship could turn into something more and if asking that would make things weird. And all the possibilities I've thought of so for are a touch terrifying, for different reasons"—seemed like a lot to drop on Alexis on the way to a peaceful mini-nature walk. Instead, she replied, "It's…it's not nothing, but I just kind of want to clear my mind for now. And this walk should do the trick, based on how you've described it."

Alexis gave her a quizzical look, but followed it up with a nod. "I hope so. It was a pretty unique way to repurpose a railroad." She reached down, found Twyla's hand without looking, and gave a reaffirming squeeze as they kept walking. "The High Line is this really intriguing combination of green space juxtaposed with, like, the industrial construction environment that makes up a ton of the city," Alexis explained, with her usual hand gestures included. "It's kind of…I don't think oasis is the right descriptor, but the wildness of the trees and plants fits with the city's whole vibe while also being different from, say…" her eyes flickered around as she searched for the most apt phrase, and it made Twyla want to kiss her again. "The madness of getting sushi in Times Square, on a Saturday morning, at almost 2 A.M. If that made any sense," she summarized.

Twyla nodded. "Sure, I think so. Like, it fits within the urban cityscape and reflects it while also having a sort of unique energy, also?"

Alexis' eyes lit up. "Yes! Thank you, Twy. I've come here by myself and like… _felt_ that, you know? But when I've tried to explain it to my work friends they just go oh, yeah, it's cool and I end up feeling kind of dumb for expressing such a strong connection to this particular place. Speaking of which," Alexis commented as they climbed a set of stairs leading to one of the High Line's various starting points, "here we are."

Alexis _was_ right. The High Line definitely fit well in the concrete jungle of New York City, but the trees, plants, flowers, and shrubs situated alongside railroad tracks and above steel girders slowed the chaotic, almost overwhelming pulse of life in the city to a somewhat more manageable, muted thrum. Twyla felt her anxiety seep away as she and Alexis ambled along the walkways to admire the greenery, with Alexis stopping them every so often to point out nearby landmarks.

As they were walking through one of the elongated archways, Twyla noticed it was more or less deserted.

"Hey," she said casually, turning toward Alexis.

"What's up?" Alexis asked.

Twyla smoothly removed her hand from Alexis' grasp, moved it to the back of her neck, and pulled her in for a quick kiss.

Alexis' tiny squeak of surprise at the gesture made Twyla maintain the kiss a few seconds longer than she'd initially intended.

"Wh-what was that for?" Alexis asked, her face blushing a brighter crimson than some of the cherry tomatoes that had just finished ripening in the High Line's community garden.

Twyla smiled as she easily intertwined her fingers with Alexis' once again. "You bringing me here—both in terms of New York City itself and, specifically, the High Line. And everywhere else we've gone. Honestly…" she weighed the potential effect of her next words but decided to share them anyway. "I was a tiny bit worried about this trip, sometimes," she confessed.

Alexis frowned as they took a break from walking to sit on one of the benches in the shady portion of the archway. "What do you mean? That we wouldn't have a good time, or…?"

"No, nothing like that," Twyla reassured her. "I always love spending time with you, Alexis. It was more about how I'd fit in the city. You remember how I felt overwhelmed in the airport when I first got here?"

Alexis nodded.

"I was concerned that anxiety would follow me around when we were doing the sort of tourist-y parts of the trip," Twyla admitted. "But everywhere we've gone…" she hesitated, wanting to make sure she explained everything properly, when Alexis reached across the table, took both her hands, and murmured, "Yes?" softly.

The physical contact and the fact that Alexis was clearly, truly listening helped put her at ease. "The Strand, the farmers market, the theater last night, and the High Line," Twyla listed, "are all definitely grounded in the city, but they're also home to these smaller communities, almost. It's like they're a couple layers removed from the stereotype that New York City is home to enough people to make you feel like nothing at all."

Alexis nodded, seemingly in agreement, so Twyla continued.

"They've all been much more comfortable, warming, and welcoming than I expected. Of course, having you by my side plays a massive role in that comfort," Twyla went on, feeling her heart swell at the bright smile Alexis gave her at that comment. "Anyway, even though the city isn't home for me, it _feels_ more like home than I figured it would."

"I'm thrilled to hear that, Twy! I hadn't thought about these places in that way before, but they are definitely a bit more relaxed than a lot of the standard tourist spots. The whole go-go-go pace mostly suits me, but I do definitely need breaks from it, too. I've missed Schitt's Creek's slower living sometimes. Well…mostly you," she added, drawing a blush out from Twyla.

"I've missed you, too, babe," Twyla answered quietly. "The café's not really the same without you."

"I'm definitely gonna schedule a vacation to get back sometime," Alexis reassured her. "I miss David, too, even though he can drive me crazy. Now," she asked, glancing at her watch and seeing it was already going on 12:15, "you ready to finish up this walk?" She got off the bench and pointed. "There's a staircase up ahead that we can take down to street level and then catch the subway over to that Greek bistro."

"Ok, sounds good," Twyla nodded.

As she was about to get up, Alexis placed a hand on her knee. "Wait, just a sec."

"Wh—" In a flash, Alexis cupped Twyla's face with her hands and kissed her soft and slow.

Alexis turned and took a couple of steps away, grinning at how she'd left Twyla more or less frozen on the bench.

"C'mon, Twy!" she called sweetly, feigning innocence. "What are you doing just sitting there?"

Alexis' grin expanded as she noticed Twyla was still blushing. She reached back to grab Twyla's outstretched hand as they made their way toward one of the High Line's many staircases to get back to the ground.

She can't quite believe how easy it is to kiss Twyla. How naturally they've adapted to navigating through crowds without losing their grip on each other. How all of their little touches feel brand new and familiar all at once.

Despite her generally cool demeanor, Alexis had endured her awkward feeling-out periods during most of her relationships. Just figuring out whether or not to hold hands with a guy on the walk between one Bonnaroo set to another had left her feeling a bit weird on more than one occasion. Yet, she and Twyla had seemingly bypassed those issues without even having to acknowledge them in the first place.

" _Yeah, but it's not like she's some rando, which makes a huge difference. And we're…"_

" _What, exactly?"_ Alexis asked herself.

Before this weekend—or, more accurately, before 10:45 or so this morning—she would've said they were best friends, no question. Now, though, she wasn't quite so sure.

Alexis recalled the Freudian slip she'd made just before they'd headed out to catch the subway to the High Line, asking Twyla if she was ready to go about the rest of their _date_ when she so obviously meant to say _day_.

" _Was that really a mistake, though, when you've thought about taking some Tinder hopefuls on that walk and then going to this restaurant as a first or second date?"_

"Alexis," Twyla murmured, giving her a tiny nudge with her shoulder. "What do you want to order?"

She quickly focused her attention on the overhead menu board. "Um, I'll get a chicken souvlaki wrap and a side of the house-made pita chips, please. And could I get a cup for water?" She started digging for the clutch in her purse when Twyla interrupted her, saying, "I've got it," as she handed her Discover card to the cashier.

"Thanks, Twy. Now, if we could just find somewhere to eat…" she craned her neck, looking around for a table. "Ooh, there's one over by the window. Could you grab it and I'll get our waters?"

"On it," Twyla answered, weaving between the other restaurant patrons to claim the spot.

" _Ok, so if a woman you recently kissed buys you lunch, is that like, a date?"_ Alexis asked herself. _"No way. That was definitely just a friend treating another friend to lunch. Right?"_

She wracked her brain for a way to ease the conversation toward that potentially dangerous topic as she and Twyla discussed possible shows or a movie to watch later that night after dinner. Their lunches arrived in short order, though, and Alexis still didn't have any clue as to how to casually inquire about their relationship once they started eating. Fortunately, she caught a snatch of conversation from one of the other tables, as a woman mentioned something about the Ten of Cups and a new job, and it jogged her memory of the reading Twyla had done for her and Ted a while back.

"Hey, Twy?" she asked a second before Twyla took a hearty bite of her Mediterranean veggie wrap.

"Hmm?"

"I was wondering…before we make dinner, could you do a Tarot card reading for me? If you have cards with you and are feeling up for it, that is. No big deal if you don't."

Twyla swallowed, took a sip of her water, and nodded. "Actually, I do! I got a new deck a couple weeks ago. I'd packed it and thought I'd take a look at the cards if my flight got delayed. It kind of feels right to first break them out here with all the new experiences of this weekend."

"Great!" Alexis exclaimed.

"Sure thing. Thanks for asking me," Twyla replied.

"Of course," Alexis answered, hoping she didn't sound too ridiculously eager about it.

Her mind flashed forward to what else they could do when they got back to her apartment, imagining the delectable taste of ice cream-laced kisses that alternated between hot and cold. Wondering how quickly she could possibly learn where Twyla liked being touched during make out sessions. If she preferred a hand on her hip, on the small of her back, or running through her hair.

More than anything, Alexis considered what she'd do, what she'd say, if the Tarot card reading basically spilled her guts for her and revealed just how deep her fondness for Twyla ran.  
  


**

After they'd gotten back to the apartment and Alexis had put the chicken in the fridge to start thawing out, she asked hesitantly, "Is there anything you need for your reading? Besides the cards themselves, obviously. I don't know if it being a new deck or using it elsewhere makes a difference compared to using your sort of regular one back home."

"Now that you mention it—do you have a large, flowy scarf or something similar we could put across your coffee table?" Twyla asked Alexis. "We can use that as kind of a basic 'connector' to the cards to share your energy and spirit with them. Even though I haven't done any readings with them yet, I've had them with me for a couple of weeks and I've kept them around my house, so they're sort of used to me. If that doesn't sound too weird."

"Not at all, babe!" Alexis answered. "Is there a certain kind of scarf I should look for? Like, is there a particular vibe you want from it? Or am I overthinking this?"

"You're definitely not," Twyla answered. "Honestly, some people treat this as a bit of a joke, so I appreciate the questions. I'd say if you have a lighter scarf in your closet as opposed to a heavy winter one, go with that. Otherwise, um, just choose whatever speaks to you."

Alexis dug through her closet (a semi-unwelcome reminder that she really needed to clean it) and grabbed and discarded a few possible options before she pulled out one of her light fall scarves she wore on occasional mild October days in the city. While it certainly wasn't fall yet, something about the warmth of the color—it was neither the garish, bright color of a plastic Halloween decoration, nor so dark that it would only be appropriate for Thanksgiving—and the lightness of the material struck her as being ideal for a Tarot reading.

"Alright, one scarf, ready for action," Alexis announced as she came back out of her room.

"Good choice," Twyla commented. "Orange has some really great qualities—intelligence, ambition, and confidence."

They cleared off the coffee table and draped the scarf over it.

"Before we start, is this reading just for yourself, or is there another person involved in it, or maybe your family? That information will help me figure out the best layout to use," Twyla explained.

"There's one other person, yes. Someone I've been in touch with recently," she answered.

If Twyla was being honest, she'd half-expected something along those lines, but she wasn't totally sure if Alexis was referring to her or someone else.

"Ok. We can do that, Alexis," Twyla nodded, keeping her voice neutral. Though she was hardly a Tarot master, Twyla prided herself on maintaining her emotions on as even a keel as possible when doing readings for others. Even when that reading could either confirm her hopes or annihilate them.

"And do you have a question in mind that you want to focus on?" Twyla asked.

After a few seconds of careful consideration, Alexis replied, "Is it ok if I'm thinking of something, but it's not _exactly_ a question? And that I'm still figuring out exactly how to explain it?"

Twyla's open smile helped her relax. "Of course. Just please keep it to yourself until after the reading is done. Not that I don't want to hear it, but knowing what you're thinking ahead of time could affect the reading."

"Ok," she murmured, grateful that Twyla let her just _be_ as she worked through what she wanted to say in her head. "I'd like to…" she started whispering aloud before remembering Twyla's instructions and laughing lightly at herself. She closed her eyes to avoid getting distracted because Twyla looked ridiculously serene and beautiful and it was probably considered bad form to want to kiss the person conducting your Tarot reading. Still, the distraction did remind her exactly what, or rather, who, she wanted to focus on. _"I'd like to explore the nature and development of our relationship through this reading. And what we may need to do or work on to nurture it into something more, if Twy would be open to the possibility. Please,"_ she whispered in her head.

She's not sure if the please is to be polite or to hope that Twy wants her that way. Probably both.

Twyla watched Alexis with interest as she worked her way through forming a question, or thought, or statement.

"You're all set, then?" she queried after a beat.

"Yes. Thanks, Twy."

"Ok, could you please give me a minute to clear my head and then we can begin?" she asked.

Alexis gave a few tiny, insistent nods as they settled on the floor, sitting opposite each other with the coffee table between them.

Twyla closed her eyes as she shuffled her deck, picturing a white light gently pulsing from the cards, leading Alexis to a reading that satisfied her desire, whatever it might be. Twyla also pictured the two of them on a shore line, slowly retreating away from each other, to create the needed distance between their energy to deliver an effective, unbiased reading with as accurate an interpretation as she could offer.

To create some mental distance between them, too, if Alexis had someone else in her life. And if the cards showed that, well…Twyla would handle it the best she could, if that made Alexis happy. After all, they'd still definitely be best friends, no matter what.

After going through one final shuffle and silently requesting the universe for clarity on both of their behalves, Twyla opened her eyes. She tried not to smile when she saw Alexis now had hers shut, too.

"Alexis?" she asked softly. As Alexis slowly blinked her eyes open, Twyla passed her the deck. "If you could cut the deck into three piles and then shuffle them back together, that would be great."

Alexis followed the instructions, looking back up at Twyla intently after she'd reassembled the cards in one pile, and it took Twyla a second to find her voice.

"Thank you. And now pick out six, but keep them face down."

"Any six?" Alexis asked.

Twyla nodded. "Any six cards that feel right to you, to your intuition."

Alexis picked out her first five relatively quickly, placing them in a line from the pack and sliding them toward Twyla, but her face scrunched up as her fingers ghosted back and forth between two cards. After a minute, Twyla quietly asked, "Do you mind if I offer some advice?"

Alexis looked up at her with a touch of gratitude and relief. "Yes, please, Twy. I'm at a loss with which one to grab as the last one."

"What I'll usually do if I'm struggling to choose is to focus on a point kind of high up and across from me, so I can't really look at the cards." She caught Alexis' gaze for a second as she aimed her sights at, Twyla guessed, the point where the wall and ceiling met in her kitchen. "Ok, good. Now close your eyes." Alexis complied, and Twyla took the briefest of moments to admire her beauty before saying, with a hint of urgency, "No thinking. Pick your card."

Alexis instinctively snapped her left hand out and slid the one on the left up to join the other five.

She opened her eyes and looked down, seemingly in surprise, and it took most of Twyla's willpower to not laugh at the reaction.

"Now that we have the six cards," she slid them closer to her, careful to keep them ordered correctly, "I'll lay them out in a modified Celtic cross. By the way, thank you, Alexis, for making your selections."

Alexis simply nodded in acknowledgement, her eyes locked on the coffee table. Not wanting to make a mistake with the arrangement, Twyla talked through the iteration she wanted to create in her head.

" _Alright, the first card is the querent's object of affection, on my left. Across from that one, on the right, is the second card, which represents the querent themselves,"_ Twyla recalled from the online guide she'd looked up as she laid out the first two cards. _"And then in between are all the linear time sections. Third and fourth cards are up top for the foundation of their relationship and the more recent past. The fifth card goes directly between the querent and their object of affection for how their relationship stands at the current time. And the final card at the bottom represents the future."_

"Ok," she said, "let's see what this reveals. I'm not going to say anything for a minute or so, I want us to take in the cards and just react to the images as we see them."

"Got it," Alexis nodded. "Can I just say, Twy, you're really good at making this, like, super accessible."

Despite her attempts to keep her emotions in check, Twyla couldn't help but smile at the compliment. She kept her gaze focused on Alexis as she eased over each of the six cards in turn to avoid seeing any of them individually before she could study and interpret them as a collective whole. It wasn't hard to read the distress that emerged on Alexis' face, though, as she flipped over the third and fifth cards. After flipping the final card, Twyla closed her eyes for a second, once again asking the universe for guidance, before taking in the joint layout she and Alexis had created.

Twyla read it left to right and had to stifle a gasp at seeing the first card, the Queen of Cups. One of _her_ cards, one that she'd always identified with, ever since she'd first gotten interested in tarot.

Trying to tamper down her excitement, she examined the rest of the tapestry, noting a few fascinating connections and generally strong synergy and interplay between the cards Alexis had pulled.

Wanting to keep Alexis engaged in the reading, Twyla asked, "What are your first impressions?"

"Well, there doesn't appear to be anyone drowning in these cards, so that's a good start," she commented. "It looks like…is that a magician, or a wizard?" she asked, pointing at the card on the right.

"That's the Magician."

"Thanks, Twy. It looks like they have a lot going on. Though…" Alexis frowned as she peered closer at one of the cards. "The lady falling out of a tower that's caught fire or been struck by lightning? That kinda seems like a bummer." She clapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry. I don't want to, like, disrespect the cards or make you feel like I'm not taking this seriously. I am, I promise."

"Alexis, it's completely fine," Twyla answered with a small smile. "You gave your honest reaction, that's exactly what I wanted. And the Tower card," she tapped her right pointer finger on it, "is what connects these two, the Queen of Cups and the Magician, on a fundamental level." She drew lines to each of them. "It's the foundation of their relationship. Which is really interesting, given that it represents upheaval and ground-breaking change, and I mean _literally_ ground-breaking, if you follow how this lightning bolt," she noticed Alexis tracking the movement of her fingers with her eyes as she drew the jagged line, "is hitting the floor of the tower and cracking it apart." Twyla could hear herself getting more excited and tried to relax. She'd learned the hard way that people typically weren't that invested in hearing the backstory of the cards and more often wanted to simply hear about how they applied to their love life or career prospects. Alexis, however, kept her gaze focused on the tower and glanced back and forth between the Queen of Cups and the Magician, as well.

"So, then, is their relationship inherently dangerous or dire or something? As far as a foundation goes, wouldn't the Tower be an unsteady one?" Alexis asked.

"Good question," Twyla commented. "In some cases, I think that interpretation would be correct. I don't want to skip too far ahead, but in this particular set of cards, it strikes me as less negative, since it's come up as the first sort of interaction between the Queen of Cups and the Magician."

Twyla paused for a second, trying to gauge if she should go on. But Alexis was still listening eagerly, leaning forward, her eyes locked on Twyla's, so she continued.

"There are gray areas with every card, and that definitely holds true for the Tower. On the one hand, there's a clear downfall—again, literally," she noted, gesturing to the falling woman and getting a laugh from Alexis for it. "And there's pain and chaos, for sure. But within that destruction is the chance to create something new or shift away from what may have caused the tower to be ruined in the first place." She hesitated for a second, then kept going as the best way to neatly wrap up the Tower's story flashed into her mind. "And based on the other cards, I think that's how these two are linked. They were kind of thrown together through unexpected circumstances and started trying to make the best of it. Possibly," she added a second later. "I've misread the cards before. And sometimes they just don't want to reveal anything useful," she told Alexis.

Despite that somewhat self-effacing comment, Twyla already sensed a connection with the new deck. During her best, most cohesive readings, she felt as if she could almost see the links between the cards, as if they were cooperating with her intuition and naturally guiding her to a clear, well-outlined narrative, and that was the case so far.

"Well, your explanation impressed me. I wouldn't have been able to draw all that out of one card," Alexis complimented her before pointing back and forth between the Queen of Cups and the Magician. "So, the tower is the foundation for how these two are connected. What are their stories?"

"They make a unique and creative pairing. To start, the suit of Cups all deal with emotion, and the Queen is highly emotional, in terms of being in tune with her own feelings and being compassionate toward others," Twyla explained. "At times, that can get her in trouble. You see how she's got her feet on the rocks and there's water running over them?"

Alexis followed where Twyla had gestured on the card. "She's not completely on land, but not, like, immersed in the water, either, then."

"Right," Twyla nodded. "For her, that in-between state is typically ideal. She can be connected both to herself and empathize with others by sensing their emotions, as represented by the ebb and flow of the tide. It takes a lot of flexibility and adaptability—a lot of mental energy, really—to do that."

"Absolutely," Alexis agreed, nodding slowly.

"And in calm waters, that's fine," Twyla noted. She could see the gears turning inside Alexis' head—was she making the link between Twyla and her signifying card?

"But the waves can overwhelm the Queen if she doesn't take a firm stand once in a while and move away from the shore, briefly, to maintain her own emotional well-being. She sometimes struggles to recognize that actively committing to self-care is something she needs to do in order to best help others. And _that_ ," Twyla went on, pleased with the fact that she could transition seamlessly into Alexis' card, "is one of the reasons it's sort of cool to see her paired with the Magician, because he's a lot more oriented toward purposeful action."

Twyla noticed Alexis glance up and away from the deck, with a small, impish grin threatening to overtake her face. "What is it, Alexis?"

Her hands fluttered over her mouth as she shook her head back and forth a tiny bit. "Can I make a really terrible joke, or will that mess with the energy here?"

"To thine own self be true," Twyla recited with a small, bemused sigh. "Go for it."

"When you say action, do you mean action like, hey girl, stop by after my performance and I'll show you my magic wand?" Alexis asked with a wink.

Despite her best efforts, Twyla couldn't keep a straight face at the wisecrack.

"That was impressively bad. And no, I'm not talking about that kind of action." Twyla rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, but honestly, she appreciated that she and Alexis could still banter a bit during their first tarot experience together. Some people she had done readings for at the Summer Solstice festival took everything so seriously that completing just a couple of sessions left her mentally exhausted.

"Sorry for the interruption," Alexis commented before making a sweeping gesture at the cards. "Please go on."

"Alright. Like I said, the Magician is prone to action and taking charge of their future. You'll notice he's wielding every suit of the tarot—cups, pentacles, swords, and wands—on the table, which represents a full range of possibilities in terms of creative activity. It's a card associated with manifestation and confidently stepping into your destiny, or even building a new one."

"Hmm," Alexis muttered. "I wouldn't have expected that. My family didn't read many fairy tales or stories growing up, but just from pop culture, I would have thought the magician would be, like, a shady trickster figure."

"The reversed Magician is like that," Twyla replied. "He's more of an illusionist and uses his ambition and cunning more for personal gain, often to the detriment of others. The upright Magician is driven and motivated to prove himself in a way that benefits the larger community, but he can sometimes be too quick to jump into doing something without plotting out the long-term consequences," Twyla explained. "With this particular layout, having the Queen of Cups connected to him is a bit of a counter-balance, as she's more prone to introspection. And, vice-versa, the Magician could get the Queen to transform her thoughts into actions with more speed and determination, if needed."

"It sounds like they're a pretty good match, then," Alexis commented. "And can we revisit other cards?"

"Yeah, they seem pretty well-suited, though I haven't pulled them together too often. And yes, absolutely," Twyla answered, trying to rein in her smile to avoid seeming like she was too geeked out over how Alexis had become invested in the reading. Or to reveal what felt more and more like confirmations that they could make a relationship work.

" _So much for not taking the cards too seriously, then,"_ Twyla thought. But it wasn't just the cards. It had felt as if she and Alexis were on the right path together for weeks, and being physically distant for the past year or so hadn't cleaved them apart at all. If anything, judging by the intent behind their kisses earlier, they'd bonded even more closely despite being separated.

Alexis glanced down at the cards and asked, "So, going back to the Tower card. Could that theme of change also be a sign that the Queen and the Magician are sharing their more positive traits with each other and becoming more well-rounded as a result?"

"Definitely. Nice interpretation," Twyla answered, and she felt her face light up as Alexis beamed proudly. "And that aligns with the recent past card, too, the Eight of Pentacles, since it represents a dedication to craftsmanship and continuous improvement. You're crafting an intriguing story here, Alexis."

Alexis shrugged off the praise. "I kinda picked everything at random, I didn't know what I was doing."

"Still," Twyla responded, "the cards always have some reason for making themselves known."

"I'm curious how this next one came up, then," Alexis answered, tapping a finger on the reversed Temperance card. "Cause upside down cards are basically the opposite of whatever they represent normally, right?"

Twyla nodded, so she continued, "And the opposite of temperance, for me, would be, like, jetsetting to Europe on a Wednesday to see Deadmau5 and roll on molly at a rave. But that is _so_ not my scene anymore. So I'm sorta confused."

"Ok, that's good to know," Twyla laughed. "And you're right, reversed Temperance can be a reminder to be moderate and a warning to avoid burning out from leading a crazy life. But that doesn't seem to be the case for you at the moment." Her eyes roamed over the layout again. "And work is going alright? I know things had been busy for you in August."

"Yeah, it's calmed down a bit recently."

"Good," Twyla nodded as she consulted the cards again. "Hmm…is there a lack of harmony somewhere else in your life, maybe? Something you'd like to achieve to feel more settled or at peace? That could relate to work, finances, relationships—anything, really."

Alexis nodded, wondering if Twyla could hear her heart thumping at the end of that question. "Yeah, you could say that."

Trying to not make it too incredibly obvious that she was talking about Twyla, she went on, "I think I need to chat with someone about how I see them in my life, but I'm not sure exactly how to go about it. Or how they might react if things between us changed."

"In what kind of way?" Twyla asked softly.

"In…a significant way," Alexis replied a touch evasively. "In a way that I hope would be for the better. But it's kind of new territory, so I'm still trying to work the details out a bit on my own first."

Twyla took a deep breath, willing herself to stay focused on the final bit of the reading even as her heart beat with the ferocity of an 808 drum. "Well, after you go through that process, I think you should talk to them," she answered carefully. "Because the last card we have here represents the future for our two characters, and it's the Four of Wands."

"Is that a tower in the background?" Alexis asked.

"Yes, but it's not the same one as the one in the Tower card," Twyla noted. "This is a new home, a place of comfort and prosperity, as represented by the festival banner over the home and the fruit in the fields. The number four in tarot also represents stability, so it has the chance to be a much better long-term home than the previous tower. And, as a doubling of two, which often symbolizes couples, it can also be a sign of community, whether that's friends or family."

"Then this is a really positive outlook for the Queen and the Magician," Alexis murmured, almost more to herself than to Twyla.

"Yeah. It's like they've come full circle from their starting point, almost," Twyla suggested, and she realized it wasn't a suggestion, at all, as the new cards had been most forthcoming with her today. Motioning at the original Tower, she explained, "The Queen of Cups and the Magician's relationship—which could be either a romantic one or a friendship, there's no real rule one way or the other with this layout—evolved out of these sort of messy, chaotic initial circumstances. And they've grown together from it to maintain or develop a strong foundation of their own." After a second, she remembered her manners and asked, "Did this help clarify your question?"

Alexis gave a satisfied nod and a grin, to Twyla's relief. "Yes, definitely. Thanks for doing this, Twy! It was super enlightening and I loved getting to hear you, like, weave this story together. I wouldn't have thought everything could be so interconnected like that."

"I'm glad! I enjoyed it, too. Working with a new deck can sometimes be a bit of a feeling-out process, so it was nice that everything came together relatively easily." She cleared her throat and glanced down at her watch. No wonder it felt like sandpaper, she'd been talking without much of a break for the past hour or so. "Could you get me a glass of water, Alexis?"

"Sure thing," she answered, getting up onto her feet. "By the way, what time do you want to start dinner?"

"I'm not sure yet, but it probably would be a good idea to put the chicken in the sink and run it under cold water so it thaws out more. Could you just give me a minute to bring the reading to a close?" Twyla called back.

"Oh, yep, don't want to interrupt! And I'll do that right now," Alexis apologized in her familiar, frenzied way, and Twyla felt a smile play against her lips at it. She took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and called forth her vision of a soft white light again, imagining it retreating from the atmosphere around them and re-entering the cards. She silently thanked them for their energy. When she opened her eyes, Twyla found Alexis sitting next to her and holding a glass of water, causing her to nearly jump.

"Sorry," Alexis giggled. "I was just admiring how _Zen_ you looked. And how you seemed so pleased with the reading."

"I am," Twyla acknowledged with a smile. "You made a good querent."

"Well, thank you. I still don't know exactly what I was doing, but I'm glad this didn't feel like it was a chore for you."

Twyla shook her head. "No way." She went to start gathering the cards when Alexis spoke up.

"Oh, Twy, before you clear those away, um…would you mind showing me the layout you used and explaining what the Queen of Cups and the Magician were supposed to represent?" Alexis asked. "I was trying to follow along, but I don't remember if that came up."

"Sure," Twyla answered, flattered to even be asked the question. "Since you said your reading involved another person, I went with a modified Celtic cross. So the Queen of Cups represented the person you're interested in, and the Magician represented you."

"Ooh, I'm the Magician?"

"Well, for this reading, at least. If you ever do readings on a more regular basis, you'll end up finding a few cards that you might identify with more readily than others," Twyla explained. "The Magician does seem to be a good fit for you, though, with all the creative projects you've been heading up," she added, with a touch of pride in her voice. "And then the four cards that run vertically between those two represent the different phases of their relationship."

"Right, yeah, I remember that part." Alexis nodded and steepled her fingers together. "Is it considered bad luck to tell a Tarot reader the question you were focusing on during the reading?"

Twyla pondered the question for a few seconds. "I don't think so, but just in case, do you mind if I put my cards away first?"

"No problem, babe. Go right ahead," Alexis heard herself saying, glad for the moment alone so she could cobble together at least the start of what she wanted to tell Twyla.

**

She moved to the couch, assuming what she hoped was a natural position for confessing to Twyla that she'd fallen for her.

Alexis frowned. No, that wasn't quite accurate. The truth was, she was still falling for Twy and might just _keep_ falling for her, if the past couple of weeks and their weekend together had taught her anything.

"Alright, what was the burning question you'd thought to focus on?" Twyla asked with a smile after she'd returned to the couch and mirrored the curled up cat pose Alexis had settled on.

"Well, it wasn't exactly a question, per se." She glanced around the living room and willed herself to keep talking (a rarity for Alexis). "I wanted to get some insight into our friendship."

"Oh. And what did you find out?" Twyla asked softly.

"It confirmed a lot of what I was thinking," Alexis answered. She inched closer to Twyla and reached a hand out tentatively, and Twyla took it without hesitation.

"Like what?"

"That I'm insanely lucky to have you here at all, in the first place," Alexis answered. "I mean, I was _such_ a bitch when my family first got to Schitt's Creek," she groaned, lambasting her past self. "I threw a muffin at you to get your attention, Twy! What kind of crazy person does that? And you were still so kind to me anyway."

"Well…" Twyla bit her lip and broke eye contact from Alexis.

"Well, what, babe?"

"I wasn't being fake nice to you when you first arrived, but…let's just say I might have known a couple of those Meadow Harvest smoothies you had during your first month in town were going to taste awful?" She gave a little cringe at the admission.

Alexis' jaw dropped. "Wait, are you serious?"

Twyla shook her head ruefully. "God, I picked the worst time to finally fess up to that. Sorry, sorry, did I just completely screw up this moment?"

Alexis laughed, thankfully, and answered, "No. Honestly, I more than deserved it. And I'm incredibly grateful I'm no longer that person. You helped me grow so much, Twy." She gave her hand a squeeze.

"You've helped me grow, too, Alexis," Twyla smiled. "Both with the café and with being more confident in presenting myself and reaching out to new people. Not that I've done that last part like, recently," she added quickly. "I'm kinda over the Schitt's Creek dating scene for now."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it," Alexis answered in a tone that was definitely too eager, but she definitely didn't care.

"Yeah? And why's that, babe?" Twyla asked in a sultry tone that nearly derailed Alexis' train of thought.

Alexis took a second, trying to figure out how to best respond, when she remembered the advice she'd given herself last night, which seemed like an eternity ago: be direct. "Because I want you. I want you on your bad days, I want you on your best days, I want to help _make_ your best days. I want to be _with you_ , Twy," she emphasized. "I'm…" Alexis took a shaky breath and her heart skipped a beat when she noticed Twyla gazing at her like she'd shot an extra bit of brightness into the clear blue sky just outside her living room window. "I…" Alexis took another breath and managed, "Sorry. My brain's going on the fritz and I definitely need to shut up for a sec and let you speak."

"Thanks," Twyla whispered, as she absentmindedly traced figure eights around Alexis' palm with her fingers. She continued doing that for seemingly an hour, or what felt like it to Alexis, before commenting with a slight smile, "You remember when we were on the way to the High Line and I told you I was kind of worried about something?"

"Yeah," Alexis nodded.

"I'd been trying to figure out how to tell you I wanted us to be something more. So I want you right back, Alexis," she said softly, reveling in how her eyes lit up at the admission. "I felt like the universe had been steering us toward this evolution of our relationship for the past month or so. And the Tarot cards definitely confirmed it."

Alexis wrapped her in a bear hug on the couch and pressed a warm, lingering kiss to her lips. "Yes. The universe definitely was doing that. And you sensed that positive energy with the cards, too?"

Twyla laughed and gazed into Alexis' eyes, still a bit unable to comprehend that she was in New York City, with her caring, witty, hilarious, beautiful best friend—or girlfriend, now, maybe?—giving her kisses that bordered on intoxicating.

"Yes, babe," she said, laughing, pulling back a bit, even as she ran her fingers through Alexis' hair. "The Queen of Cups is my signifying card. So I kind of guessed that this had a chance of happening once I saw it."

Alexis drew back further and gasped, "So you _knew_ and you didn't say anything?! This all could have been resolved, like," she glanced at her watch, "an hour and fifteen minutes ago?" She somehow paused her indignation for a second to comment, "Props to you for the acting job, Twy, my mom would be proud," drawing a cackle from her before resuming the faux-tirade. "You could've just told me then and—"

Twyla interrupted by putting her hands on both her shoulders, moving in closer to Alexis, and whispering in a breathy tone, "Shut up and kiss me again, Lex."

The way Twyla casually pulled out that nickname for the first time absolutely _wrecked_ Alexis in the best way and she followed the command immediately, with everything she had, drawing a keening note of surprise from somewhere deep in Twyla's throat as their lips met.

"Just so you're aware," Alexis whispered as she pulled back a touch, matching Twyla's seductive voice with her own, "I kinda have a thing for women who know how to give me orders."

"Really?" Twyla asked, smirking. "Am I good at that?"

Alexis nodded silently, too embarrassed to speak for a moment as she wrapped her arms around Twyla. "Yeah," she finally answered, wearing a massive grin. "You are. You're the best, Twy. At everything."

Twyla smiled up at her and could feel her irises twinkling. Who would've guessed she'd find a sense of peace that ran deep in her bones in New York City, of all places, and in the arms of her best friend, to boot? "So are you, babe," she whispered, pulling Alexis in close for another deep kiss. "So are you."

**

After fifteen, or nineteen, or twenty-five minutes of kissing, making out, and chatting with each other, snuggled close on the couch, Twyla asked, with a slightly strangled breath, "You mentioned something about dinner earlier, I think?"

Alexis nodded as she pushed a few loose strands of hair back into place. "Yeah." Alexis checked her watch and was surprised to find it was already a bit after 4:30. "Between our walk this morning and however many calories all that kissing burned, I'm feeling a little peckish. If you don't mind having a bit of an early-bird special, I think I'd rather start it sooner than later."

"Sure," Twyla nodded, though she made absolutely no attempt to get up, opting to kiss Alexis again, instead. Because, hello, how is she supposed to not want to do that all the time? How is she supposed to resist wanting to hold Alexis close to trace her fingers all over her gorgeous, sun-kissed skin?

She made sure their lips stayed in contact even as Alexis slowly got to her feet, and she could feel the matching grins breaking out on both their faces.

Alexis booped her on the nose just after she finally broke away from Twyla. "C'mon, babe." She helped Twyla to her feet and gave her another quick kiss before retrieving her laptop to pull up the recipe and Spotify. "I'm excited to make dinner with you."

"Me too," Twyla answered. "I haven't cooked with anyone in a while outside of work." She looked at the recipe as Alexis retrieved a medium-sized glass bowl and a whisk for mixing purposes and put them on the island counter. "Ok, so the first step is to just make the marinade—seems pretty easy, just need to find your olive oil and balsamic vinegar. And where's your microplane?"

"I'll get the oil and vinegar," Alexis responded brightly, stepping behind Twyla and reaching up to the top cabinet to the right of the stove. "Microplane's in the drawer behind you."

"Thanks," Twyla answered as she retrieved it. "If you could fill a quarter cup almost all the way up with olive oil and top it off with the balsamic, that would be great," she told Alexis as she put the microplane down next to the bowl, grabbed a knife, and moved a bit further out of the way to start cutting up the peaches. Before she did that, though, she glanced at Alexis' Spotify playlists and started scrolling.

"You mind if I put something on?" she asked while Alexis measured out the ingredients.

"Not at all. A special someone once told me that having music playing in the kitchen is an essential part of cooking," Alexis replied with a grin.

Twyla blushed at hearing the first three words of the second sentence, still feeling as though she might be floating through a dream that hadn't even entered her consciousness until a few weeks prior. Wanting a song that reflected the new novelty of what was unfolding between the two of them, she searched for BOY and, after a moment's hesitation, clicked the heart button next to "Seven Little Numbers" to save it to Alexis' liked songs. She navigated back into Alexis' Spotify homepage and pulled it up.

Alexis frowned for a second as the piano and the handclaps kicked in. "I think I've heard this song in a commercial before, but I don't remember adding it," she commented as she added mustard and minced shallots to the dressing and started whisking everything together.

"You didn't," Twyla answered cheerfully as she finished cutting up the peaches and put a pan over medium heat on one of the stovetop's burners. After waiting a couple of minutes for it to heat up, she brushed olive oil onto the cut side of the peaches and transferred them into the pan. "Mind if I try a bit of that dressing, babe?"

Alexis ripped off a small piece of arugula and dipped it into the mixture. Twyla hummed in approval at the taste—light and tangy without verging into sour territory. "It's delish!" she told Alexis as she flipped the peaches over with tongs to make sure they weren't burning.

Without thinking, she found herself singing along to the song's chorus quietly.

_Seven little numbers, baby, they could be a start_

_Seven little numbers, baby, I know yours by heart and_

_Whoa-oh-oh, all the pretty things that we could be_

_Whoa-oh-oh, I feel you in every heartbeat_

_Whoa-oh-oh, revel in a dream that could come true_

_These numbers could be lucky for you_

Alexis walked over and wrapped her arms around Twyla's waist while she was standing at the stove to press a kiss to her cheek. "I love hearing you sing," she whispered, feeling a thrill at how they could freely share compliments like that now. At how easily she and Twyla could work together and share space with each other with small touches interspersed into their conversations. At how domestic it felt when Twyla guided her in gingerly removing the peaches from the heat and transferring them onto a plate without breaking the skin off.

Alexis had never really been one for at-home dates. After all, why bother potentially burning your meal when you could get reservations at nearly any steakhouse in the greater Toronto area on short notice? But as she set her small kitchen table with napkins and silverware and poured glasses of water and white wine for the two of them while Twyla was topping the salad with shaved Parmesan, she wondered if there was something to it. She felt as if they'd forged a new sort of connection by cooking together.

"Babe," Alexis said, reaching across the table to take Twyla's free left hand for a second, as her right was occupied with her water glass. "This looks so tasty. And it was pretty easy, too! Great recipe choice."

"Thanks," Twyla commented after she'd taken a sip. "It was lovely to make it with you. I hadn't realized how much I missed cooking with and for someone else."

"Completely agree," Alexis affirmed. "Or, well, I realized how nice it is, since I hadn't really done it before. I was thinking..." she paused for a beat as she speared a bit of peach to go with the chicken and arugula and ate it. "Ok, first off, that's fabulous," she said, gesturing to everything with her fork after she'd swallowed. "Like, I'm definitely gonna add that to my rotation of regular dinners. And second…would you consider this, like, our first date?" She held her breath, hoping Twyla would concur with the idea.

"Hmm…" Twyla gave a satisfied sigh after taking her own first bite of the salad. "You know what?" she smiled brightly. "I like the sound of that. Happy first date, Alexis."

Alexis beamed at her. "Happy first date, Twy. And, actually, happy first date I've ever had with a woman."

"Well, I hope it's memorable. For good reasons only," Twyla added.

"You know, for some reason, I think it will be?" Alexis teased lightly. "I get the sense that my date is, like, an excellent conversationalist and a wonderful kisser."

Twyla laughed at that, her nose crinkling and her eyes shining, and Alexis _has to_ surreptitiously get a picture of that view at some point because it's Twyla at her most beautiful.

"Really?" Twyla drawled. "Because I'm thinking the same thing. Now, as far as topics for dates go…" she paused for a drink of wine. "This might be more of a question for people in a longer established relationship, but I'm curious. When did you realize your feelings for me had changed?" she asked softly.

"Ooh, I like that question," Alexis murmured appreciatively as she dabbed a bit of dressing off the corner of her mouth with her napkin. "So, there's a specific date when it really hit me," she started. "But it was also kind of gradual? Like, during our transition from just acquaintances, to friends, to best friends. You started meaning more and more to me."

"Yeah, I'd agree with that," Twyla breathed, seemingly transfixed on Alexis' story, and that look is convincing Alexis in a dangerously short period of time that the men of New York City are absolutely doomed. Because she's never had anyone look at her like that on a first date. Even the guys who'd gotten her in bed on first dates.

Alexis went on, "I mean, I was super impressed with how you'd taken over the café and how selfless you are with handling, what, over forty million dollars? But at the same time, my feelings were just platonic, at that point."

"I don't really keep track that closely, but you're in the ballpark," Twyla answered. "And I had sort of similar feelings of pride and admiration, I think, with how well you were, and still are, doing in New York."

Alexis raised her wine glass in appreciation of the compliment. "Thanks, babe. And even when we planned this trip, I was still only thinking, yay, I'm super excited for my best friend to come visit!"

"Same," Twyla nodded.

"But then, um, you remember that night you were going out to the Wobbly Elm with the Jazzagals?"

Twyla nodded again.

"So after I helped you pick out your outfit and we'd kind of touched on whether or not you might meet someone at the bar. I hopped on Bumble to see if I could match with someone since I hadn't been on a date in a while. But I just kept swiping left on every guy I saw. And I started thinking about what I really wanted in a relationship."

"And what did you come up with?" Twyla prompted.

"I realized I didn't want to be anyone's arm candy, just there for them because I look good. And that I wanted to be with someone who really cares about me and wouldn't, like, abandon me in Italy because his friends were throwing a massive party at the Guiness factory in Ireland, you know?"

Twyla didn't know, no, but she got the gist of the sentiment. "Sure. That's important."

Alexis kept going, keeping her eyes locked on Twyla's, loving how she was clearly anticipating the _dénouement_ of the story. "And they'd need to be compassionate, and smart, and funny. And I kind of thought to myself, so you want to be with someone like Twy? And for some reason my brain didn't process that right away. But then I'd also started thinking about how amazing you looked in that dress and eventually my brain put two and two together and it was like, oh, wow, ok, I have a crush on Twy."

Twyla was clearly invested in the conversation, but she perked up at the last couple of sentences, in particular. "Seriously? It was that night?"

"Yeah," Alexis answered as she took a sip of wine. "I remember texting David because it was a really new situation for me."

Aside from when she won the lottery, Twyla had a surprisingly difficult time believing that Fate could make massive interventions in people's lives. Her personal take was that it was more of a background force, manifesting itself through smaller, less obvious means, as opposed to giant billboards and neon signs.

In terms of this coincidence, though? Fate was definitely at work.

"That's crazy!" Twyla exclaimed. "Because that's the same night I realized I had feelings for you."

Alexis felt her jaw drop. "You're joking."

Twyla shook her head insistently. "No, it totally was! Cause the bartender had been flirting with me and I'd encouraged him a little, and he asked if I wanted to go somewhere else for a drink after his shift was done since it wasn't going to be super late."

"I was really relieved when you texted me the next day you turned him down. Or, wait, it was that night, but I'd already fallen asleep," Alexis corrected herself. "Sorry. Continue, babe."

"Oh my God, you were? That is so sweet, Lex," Twyla commented after she took another bite of her salad. "So, anyway, he was a nice enough guy, but he was still obviously checking me out because…" it had to be the wine that got her to make a sweeping gesture from her head to the floor. "I was looking _really_ good. Desirable, I think, is how you described me."

She only blushed even harder when Alexis exclaimed, "Yes! _Love_ the confidence from you, Twy! So damn attractive."

Twyla continued on with her story. "And I was thinking about the way you'd basically been my hype woman, and how not many people in Schitt's Creek would act like that. I dunno if it was the booze, or what, but I started trying to figure out how I'd hype you up if our roles were reversed. My brain just kept running with that idea, to the point where I realized I was into you. And that's why I decided to call you 'babe' for the first time in my text when I got home."

Alexis smiled at her. "I still almost can't believe everything that's happened since then. Everything that's happened this weekend, even. I'm just sorry you already have to leave tomorrow."

Twyla nodded as she dug into the last couple bites of her salad. "Me, too. I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I know the long distance stuff was hard on you and Ted." She hesitated, unsure of how to acknowledge the reality of the situation without coming off like a deflating balloon.

Alexis scooted back in her seat, got up, and came around the table to crouch down next to Twyla, taking both of her hands in hers. "I just wanna say this to get it out of the way: there are times when doing long distance sucks, yeah," she admitted. "But the idea of not being with you sucks, like, a million times more. And I don't want to get ahead of myself since we've only just started this sort of new journey together today. But, Twy…" Alexis murmured softly. "I want you. I want this to work. And we'll have to work at our relationship, sometimes, I'm sure, but I'm completely motivated to do that. You're so worth it."

Twyla nodded firmly and took a deep breath to steady her voice. "I want you too, Alexis. And I want to keep growing with you and sharing my life with you, honestly. Being with you feels like everything we already had, just…just _more._ And I'm not giving that up."

The soft, tender kiss Alexis offered signaled her agreement. "So, even though it's not over yet…good first date?" Alexis asked hopefully.

Twyla deepened their next kiss in response. "That answer your question?" she replied with a satisfied grin.

"Yeah," Alexis responded hoarsely. "It does. And I don't want to make any assumptions, but I'm feeling pretty stellar about my chances for a second date. And _maybe_ even a third? Even if they're virtual?"

"Yes. I'm picking up on those vibes, too, for sure," Twyla agreed, pressing a light kiss to Alexis' forehead.

"So I was wondering…" Alexis said slowly. "And feel free to tell me if I'm wrong here, since my experience in terms of dating girls is basically zero," she went on, gesturing away as usual. "But, um…" Twyla was watching her with a small, bemused smile, as if she knew what Alexis wanted to say even as she struggled to articulate it. "If we _are_ planning on dating, which, again, I don't want to assume…then, would you want to be my girlfriend, Twy?"

Twyla couldn't stifle her laugh, despite her best efforts. "I knew you would get there eventually."

"You're watching me struggle mightily with the English language because I'm overcome with emotion and your beauty and you can't throw me a lifeline?" Alexis pouted.

"I just wanted to hear you say it. And yes, yes, yes," Twyla answered, punctuating each affirmation with a quick kiss on Alexis' lips. "I want to be your girlfriend, Alexis. Do you want to be mine?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Alexis replied in imitation of Twyla's response, with kisses that tasted like semi-sweet Riesling, new promises, and a world of possibilities to explore together.


	6. Chapter 6

As the two of them cleaned up their plates after dinner, Alexis rolled the sentence around on her tongue again, feeling out the formation of words she'd never previously constructed together.

" _Twyla's my girlfriend."_

It's a touch strange for her. To not only be dating a woman, but to have fallen for a long-time friend, as well. And sure, she'd sort of been there, done that with Ted, in a sense, but they'd hit it off almost immediately after they'd first met, so it wasn't quite an exact comparison.

And yet, Alexis considered as she beckoned Twyla over to the couch after turning on the TV and opening up Netflix to throw on an episode of Friends while they decided on a movie, the uncharted territory felt completely _normal._

Although there's nothing normal about the way she feels when they're watching Friends and she can sense Twyla's affectionate gaze lingering on her as she laughs loudly at Ross for being too much of an idiot to properly work a spray tan machine.

It makes Alexis wonder what exactly that moron from Elmdale was thinking, letting Twyla get away from him in the first place. Why wouldn't you be interested in someone who radiates such genuine warmth, even if some of her stories are a touch off-color? What would ever make you believe your life would be better without her in it?

At some point during that small reverie, Twyla had refocused her attention on the television screen before noticing Alexis staring at her. Definitely a touch doe-eyed.

"Whatcha thinking about, Lex?"

"You," she answered simply, more than happy to cop to that. "And what movie we might watch. I know it's a bit Christmas-y, but what would you think about _Carol_?" she asked hopefully. "I always heard great things about it, but I never got around to seeing it when it came out."

"Sure! I've seen it once, but I'm more than game to watch it again, it's a really well-done period piece. Doesn't hurt that Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara are gorgeous, either," Twyla responded cheerfully. With that decision made, Alexis exited out of Netflix after the episode of Friends ended and queued the movie up on Interflix.

Alexis wasn't exactly sure what to expect—she knew the general premise of the film and that it was adapted from a book written in the 50's—but the tendrils of a taut, unspoken, mutual attraction in Carol and Therese's first meeting in Frankenberg's ensnared her instantly. And she recognized herself and Twyla in almost a slant rhyme in some of their gestures, their movements. In the way Therese reaches out ever so slightly toward Carol as she informs her that she can't smoke on the sales floor, as if drawn to her by magnetism. In how Carol bends down toward Therese and cocks her head to the side as Therese talks about wanting a train set as a little girl. In how Therese's gaze stays on Carol as she's elegantly gliding away after ordering the set, to the point that Carol ever so slowly turns her head and glances back.

"Oh, Therese, you poor thing, completely overwhelmed by gay panic," Twyla commented at the girl's wistful, deer in headlights stare.

"We've all been there at one point or another," Alexis replied.

Twyla turned to her with a bemused smile. "When have you gay panicked?"

"Most recently? On Saturday morning when you came out to tell me how you wanted your coffee made and you were only wearing a towel," Alexis volunteered her answer promptly, delighting in how deeply Twyla blushed at her response. "I think I played it off okay and managed to avoid staring at you like too much of a creep, though. And I'm pretty sure I can confidently say when it last happened to you," she teased Twyla with a knowing smile.

"I blabbered my way into kissing you, so that worked out pretty well for both of us," Twyla countered coolly before reaching for the remote to pause the movie. "And since we're on this topic, do you remember that time at the café when you gave me your dating tips—aka show up in a room full of guys?"

"Hey, that was almost foolproof for me back in the day," Alexis protested, but she laughed at Twyla's dramatic use of air quotes around "dating tips," just the same. "Anyway, yes, I totally remember."

"And you were pretending to be a guy to show me your pick-up lines?" Twyla continued, with Alexis nodding in response.

"That kind of fried my brain," she admitted. "Like, I was practically wearing Therese's face when you did that."

"Well, good to know I haven't lost my touch since then," Alexis grinned, and she pressed play to resume the movie with Twyla snuggled up next to her.

**

Twyla's remembering why she went and saw _Carol_ alone during an off time in the middle of the week when it had finally made its way to the Schitt's Creek MoviePlex.

She's normally not one to suffer from secondhand embarrassment during films. But the constant undercurrent of tension, along with the clandestine looks and barely-there touches that Carol and Therese passed back and forth endlessly until they finally got together, had left her cheeks tinged pink even after the final credits rolled. And that's not changing during her second viewing of the movie, especially not with Alexis by her side, holding and occasionally squeezing her hand in affection.

She thinks it happens when she spots the goosebumps springing up on Alexis' arms just as Carol runs her hands over Therese's shoulders while she plays the piano. Or maybe when Alexis can't quite stifle an impressed gasp at Carol daring to practically invite herself over to Therese's apartment.

Those are the moments that swing Twyla's focus from watching the movie to watching Alexis watch the movie.

She can't help it, exactly. Being a waitress led, somewhat naturally, to Twyla becoming a bit of a voyeur (just not in a gross way, like some of the guys in high school who had ogled the girls' soccer team practices). Part of her job was watching surreptitiously to anticipate customers' needs. And, in the case of customers who were exceptionally rude on a regular basis, purposely overlooking their needs for an imperceptible half-second. So, yeah, she's honed something of a subversive "female gaze." Or maybe a bi gaze, since she trains it on everyone in the café, not just women.

But then, Alexis has _always_ had a bit of a gravitational tug on her, ever since they could barely call each other acquaintances. Even outside of the context of an employee/customer relationship. After all, seeing someone go two or three weeks without recycling an outfit in Schitt's Creek was quite the rarity. And having that same person drop vignettes about flirting her way into getting some highly incriminating documents about Martin Shkreli's former bio-tech empire in the same nonchalant tone that Jocelyn might use when discussing a somewhat troublesome student? Yeah, it wasn't too surprising that Twyla got pulled into that orbit.

Nor is it surprising that her gaze stays fixed on Alexis now.

" _That's where it's always ended up,"_ she thought to herself. _"But you should stop staring quite so intensely or you might spook her."_

Twyla can't, though. Or won't, even as she tries her best to approximate Carol and Therese's brief, discreet, broken glances, interspersing lingering looks that frame Alexis as her subject with short instances of actually watching the movie.

"Twyla?" Alexis' hushed voice is husky from lack of use. "Would you want some ice cream in a little bit?"

"Sure. Would you still want to have the grilled peaches on top? Or, actually, we could put the ice cream on top and use the peaches as the base of the dish," she murmured back. They're not in a movie theater, so there's no need to be quite so quiet, but it would feel wrong to speak over the tenderness of the film, somehow. Whether or not Alexis sensed that, Twyla wasn't sure, but she responded with only a nod before turning her attention back to the television screen.

Once they arrived at a decent stopping point in the film—just before Carol and Therese departed on their holiday road trip—Alexis paused it, announcing it was time for dessert creation. "If you don't mind grilling the peaches for it, Twy," she added.

"Not at all. What do you think of the movie so far, babe?" she asked as Alexis dug the tub of ice cream out of the freezer.

"It's intense. A bit surreal, too, to think about how dangerous it was to be queer back then."

Twyla nodded as she swirled a dash of olive oil around a pan. "Even though parts of the world are still stuck in the past, at least there's been some progress. And I agree, I forgot that you can practically feel how much Therese and Carol want each other."

"Right?" Alexis asked. "I don't think I've seen that portrayed so well in any rom coms with straight leads, that mutual desire. And the two of them haven't even kissed yet."

"Their story is a little bit of a slow burn, but it heats up in a hurry," Twyla noted, rotating the pair of peaches she'd cut up to avoid scorching them too much, smiling softly at the slight sizzle. "Ok, I'm gonna give these another minute and then they should be ready."

"Sounds good. What do you think about adding a pinch of sea salt?"

"That would be a wonderful final touch! Nice suggestion, Alexis."

After Twyla plated up the peaches, Alexis topped them with the vanilla bean ice cream and a sprinkle of sea salt.

"Ooh, this tastes amazing," Alexis murmured, slowly savoring her first, decadent spoonful. She savors Twyla's reaction, too, if she's honest, glancing over as Twyla takes her first bite.

The sight of Twyla's eyes fluttering shut in pleasure and most definitely rolling back in her head for a second makes Alexis melt faster than the scoop of ice cream nestled on her grilled peach.

"Hey, babe? I think you've got a little something…" she motioned at the left corner of Twyla's lower lip.

She wiped at it with a napkin. "Did I get it?"

Alexis shook her head, leaned in, and whispered, "Here, allow me," before licking the spot clean and delivering a forceful kiss.

She's usually not one for food play, but good God, the sinfully divine, perfectly blended flavors of peaches, vanilla, and Twyla make a really convincing argument for why that should become her newest kink. So does Twyla swirling her tongue around her mouth, sharing more tastes of exactly what she wants.

Really, Twyla's _always_ what she wants, these days.

"You're a terrifyingly good kisser, you know," Twyla croaked out.

"I've never heard my talents described that way, so, thank you, my dear," Alexis answered warmly. "Flattery will get you anywhere you want to go."

"Oh, yeah?" Twyla asked, a tinge of a challenge in her voice.

Alexis locked eyes with her and nodded slowly as she took another bite of her dessert. "To quote my girl K. Flay, don't test me." She waited a second, then added, as innocently as possible, "Or do. If you think you can handle it."

" _Have you ever considered that dating Alexis Rose might be a tiny bit hazardous to your health?"_ Twyla asked herself as she blushed a deep red that nearly matched the peach's exterior.

She'd known for a while that she was falling for Alexis. But now she's not sure if she'll be able to stop. After all of one date, after all of one day—not even—of officially being together.

Twyla cleared her throat. "I'll keep that in mind. Do you want to keep watching the movie?"

"Yes, absolutely," Alexis affirmed as she pressed play.

They made it through the rest of the movie with limited interruptions, though Alexis let out an ear-piercing squeal at Carol's "I love you" in her penultimate meeting with Therese. As the end credits rolled, she turned to Twyla.

"That was an incredible movie, I can't believe I hadn't seen it before. Thanks for indulging me, Twy."

"No problem at all. There's so much detail packed into it, I caught some things I hadn't noticed the first time around."

"I'll have to revisit it sometime," Alexis noted. "Plus it was really nice to see, um…" she fidgeted for a second, trying to find the right words. "To see the new me, I guess you could say, represented in a love story. Since so much of the media that features queer main characters ends with despair, or death, or thinly veiled references to mental illness," she grimaced. "Like, I'm queer, but I'm also a girl-boss who doesn't enjoy spin classes. I don't wanna only see myself stereotyped or killed on-screen. None of us deserve that."

"Yeah, the whole other-ing of queer people in movies and basically substituting their sexualities for personalities is a load of crap," Twyla replied. "If I was a character in a book or a movie and it was assumed I was straight, maybe I'd get some of my interest in tarot played up, if that. But if I was written as a bisexual, most Hollywood types would be like, ok, well, we've gotta have a straight couple ask her to join a threesome when she's first introduced to everyone! Which, for the record, has never happened," she added.

"Good, since I'm not sharing you with anyone else," Alexis announced happily, nuzzling against Twyla's neck.

"That feeling is very mutual," Twyla affirmed, smiling softly. "I really appreciate that you're already identifying as part of the LGBTQ+ community, by the way."

"Well, seeing as I now have an amazing girlfriend, I can hardly identify as a straight person, can I?" Alexis laughed. "But I'm still not sure where I fit, beyond being queer," she confessed. "Like, I want you, obviously, babe, and only you. I just don't know if I'm totally gay now, or bi, or what."

Twyla nodded solemnly and reached an arm around Alexis, running it up and down her forearm. "It took me a while to figure out that I was bi and to accept it. Like, almost a year."

"Really?" Alexis asked.

"Yeah, just because I didn't really know anyone who was like me in Schitt's Creek at that time, so I didn't have any sort of sounding board outside of a few Internet message groups," Twyla explained. "And, as you can imagine, the library doesn't have a ton of LGBTQ-friendly literature. Not out of hate, or anything, just a lack of resources. I should really donate some funding to them, make it anonymous," Twyla noted thoughtfully. "But my family and nearly everyone in town was kind of like…" she shrugged noncommittally, "when I came out. I mean, my mom and cousins and my extended family made sure to give the whole 'we love you, we accept you' talk when I told them, specifically, that I was bi, which was really nice. But people around town didn't make it into a huge deal once I felt comfortable sharing."

Alexis tapped her chin thoughtfully. "That…sounds like kind of a polite way to handle it, actually? And surprisingly progressive."

"I think Schitt's Creek has so many people doing their own thing already that not being straight actually ranks pretty low in terms of attracting interest. You've gotta get into the raw milk trade or the artisan cheese biz if you want that," Twyla laughed. "Anyway," she went on, "all that's to say that navigating this new aspect of who you are can take some time. There's not always a clear progression for how or when that process happens, but I'll support you every step of the way as you figure it out, Alexis."

"Thanks so much for that, Twy," she murmured, giving her a light kiss on the forehead before checking her watch as Twyla yawned.

"What time is it, babe?"

"Going on 8:30."

"I'd say the night is young," Twyla observed, "but I wouldn't pass up an early bedtime, if that's alright."

Alexis shook her head. "I'd rather you get more sleep since you've gotta fly out tomorrow." She tried to keep her voice neutral, but it came out a little deflated. "I'm gonna miss having you here."

"I'm gonna miss being here, too," Twyla agreed quietly. For as long as the weekend had felt in some ways, it was coming to a close in a hurry. Determined to preserve some of their good vibes—and, honestly, to do a favor to her face, especially now that she had someone to impress with it—Twyla asked, "Would you mind doing your skincare routine on me again?"

Alexis gave a small smile at that. "Sure thing. Just let me get my PJs on first," she said.

She changed quickly and trilled, "Bedroom's all yours," at Twyla after stepping out.

**

If Alexis chose a light blue satin sleep shirt and shorts that nearly matched the color of Twyla's dress from last night, well, that's purely a coincidence. And if she sashays her hips as she walks to the bathroom to gather her basket of skincare goodies, well, no one can _prove_ she's doing it exclusively to get her girlfriend's attention.

Same as she had in the morning, Alexis made eye contact with Twyla in the mirror hanging on the back of her front door and batted her eyelashes at her, smiling to herself at the sound of Twyla's easy laugh.

"I'm gonna get changed now while you're getting everything together," Twyla called as she walked over to the bedroom.

She pushed aside a couple layers of clothing in her bag before pulling a dark purple silk nightgown free. She'd packed it just in case Alexis' apartment was too hot, since it was much cooler than her standard cotton t-shirt and gym shorts. And it was definitely meant to be casual sleepwear, since it wasn't see-through at all and nearly came down to her knees.

" _That doesn't change the fact that you want to get a rise out of Alexis with this little surprise, though."_

She does, she really does, and she still sometimes can't quite believe this is real. That she and Alexis found each other in the first place. That they're together. That she can now actively try to… _"well, seduce might be a bit too strong a word for day one of having a new girlfriend,"_ Twyla admitted to herself.

Her train of thought gets derailed when Alexis knocks on the door. "You all set?"

"Yep, come on in, Alexis," she answered, doing her best to keep the mischief out of her voice.

Twyla's always thought Alexis has stunning aquamarine eyes, but she's only noticed the nuances of the different shades this weekend. The way they pop like vibrant pinpricks when she's laughing. How they brighten when something captures her attention. And, God, how they flash a stormy blue when they're glazed over with lust.

The way they glow and darken as Alexis drinks in the sight of her rolls over Twyla with the intoxicating warmth of a double shot of Lagavulin.

She's on the edge of delivering a witty comment when Alexis preemptively presses a finger to her lips, eyes her up and down once more, and whispers, "You are _so_ goddamn hot, Twy."

After that, neither one of them says much as they go through Alexis' sacred skincare treatments.

Neither one of them brings attention to the fact that they're definitely rushing through every step, either.

**

After Alexis turns the lights out and neither of them says good night once they're settled in her bed, they both break out into giggles before Alexis closes the already miniscule distance between them, shimmying onto her side to look at Twyla.

Twyla cleared her throat and asked quietly, "Can I just say, is it ok if we don't go all the way tonight? I feel like that might be rushing things a bit."

"Yeah, that's completely fine," Alexis reassured her. "This is, like, the afterparty of our first date. An amazing first date, for sure, but still." Alexis bit her lip, trying to figure out a tasteful way to bring up a somewhat related topic.

"Question," she said cautiously. "Or more of a statement. No, wait, it's a question."

"What is it, Alexis?" Twyla responded with a bemused smile as she took Alexis' hands in her own.

"Is masturbation on the table if things get that far? Is it weird to even ask that?" Alexis blurted out quickly, blushing like a teenager in an awkward sex-ed seminar. "Sorry for sort of killing the vibe before it starts, but I just…" she gave a slightly frustrated sigh. "I've never had a girlfriend before and my brain just piped up with that thought and…" she trailed off.

"That's not weird at all," Twyla answered softly. "This is kind of new for me, too. I've usually been the less experienced partner when it comes to dating women. We'll figure things out together as we go and be open with each other. And that goes for everything in our relationship."

Alexis nodded. "Sounds good."

"By the way," Twyla added as casually as possible, "I'd _love_ to watch you play with yourself, if that gives you any incentive."

Alexis felt her jaw drop and gawked at Twyla. "Okay, I've been meaning to ask you this since yesterday—when did you get so good at flirting?"

Twyla shrugged. "Stevie and Patrick helped me a bit with talking to guys when I was on Tinder for a minute. But, gay panic moments aside, I've always been better at flirting with girls." She smiled brightly. "I think you can attest to that, gorgeous."

"Yes, I can," Alexis breathed, matching Twyla's smile with her own as she leaned in, pausing for a fraction of a second to lock eyes with her girlfriend. She holds the pause; even in the darkness, she can feel the dumbass grin that's broken out on her face and knows Twyla's wearing a similar one.

"Hey, babe?" Alexis asked lightly.

"Mmhmm?"

She basks in the note of insistence, impatience, and need in Twyla's voice for a beat before whispering, "Kiss me."

Twyla pulls her in and cups her cheek with the practiced ease of a couple that's traded at least one month's worth of kisses, not one weekend's. Alexis sinks into the kiss unconsciously, loving that unlike so many of her previous adrenaline-fueled makeouts with celebs and women of high society, she has time on her side with Twyla. More importantly, she has Twyla holding her close, with one hand on the back of the neck and the other on her hip as they deepen their kiss with a tender ferocity that would be terrifying if it didn't feel so right.

Despite the promise of future kisses, Alexis still wants to lose herself in the present, wants to kiss Twyla until they can't think straight.

" _Well, it's not like either one of you has that capability anymore, technically,"_ her one or two functioning brain cells comment.

She giggles into Twyla's mouth at her own lame pun and has to pull back for a second, sitting up on her knees a bit.

"What is it?" Twyla asked, smiling at the sudden burst of laughter.

Alexis shook her head. "Nothing," she answered breathlessly. While the pause was unexpected, getting to gaze down at Twyla to take in the slightly rumpled look of her nightgown, the darker shade of pink to her lips, unleashed her decisive, assertive side. Gently taking Twyla's face in her hands, Alexis immediately dove back in for a dirty kiss, sucking on Twyla's tongue for a second before moving her onto her back and swinging a leg over to straddle her.

With the way Twyla's gaping up at her, she feels close to invincible.

She looks down with her best Cheshire cat grin. "Is this ok?"

"Yes, babe _,"_ Twyla murmurs, smiling at Alexis' obvious happiness with her response. "Just admiring those long legs and how you use that fucking mouth."

Hearing Twyla swear in bed nearly sends Alexis to another planet.

"You like?" she teases, lowering herself closer to Twyla for a gentle kiss, a precursor to what might just turn into a late night.

"Yeah," she nods. "When…" she hesitates for a second, simply enjoying having Alexis' full and considerable attention on her. Alexis takes advantage of the hesitation to drop a kiss on her cheek, and the warmth of the gesture somehow both distracts Twyla and spurs her words along. "When we met at the airport, I'm pretty sure I saw you before you saw me. You looked so well put-together, as always. But I couldn't help but notice how your legs just went on _forever_ and…"

Alexis doesn't let her finish the compliment, as she kisses her way down Twyla's jawline to her neck before planting a love bite where her neck meets her shoulder, pressing their bodies flush together, one hand raking through her hair and tracing down the side of her face.

" _Fuck,_ Alexis," Twyla hisses.

Alexis can't say for sure if it's how Twyla growls the curse or moans her name like a half-broken prayer that turns her on more. Or if it's how Twyla's gone from rubbing her hands along her back to running her nails up and down her spine, with just the right amount of force to hurt in the best way.

"Told you flattery would get you everywhere with me, Twy," she whispers, again holding Twyla's gaze—it's so damn easy to get lost in her eyes—and it's a second too long for Twyla's liking, apparently, as her hands move lightning quick to the back of her neck to pull her in for their next kiss.

"Everywhere?" Twyla pants afterward, and her smirk—all teeth; a blatant, dangerous challenge—along with the way she runs her hands up down the sides of Alexis' body, just barely ghosting over the outside of her breasts, sends goosebumps running up Alexis' arms and back so quickly that she's practically vibrating.

"If that's what you want, yeah," Alexis answers as casually as possible as she leans back, still resting on Twyla's lap, and sits up, thrusting her chest out, running her hands through her hair, staring at Twyla's exposed thighs from where her nightgown rode up. She's on the precipice of completely losing control and she couldn't give less of a shit at the moment, not with the electricity crackling in the air between them. "What _do_ you want, baby?" she asks with her own deadly, teasing grin.

Twyla bucks her hips upward to grind into Alexis, snaps her right hand to the front of Alexis' shirt, and pulls her close, eye-fucking her for the tiniest instant, before hoarsely whispering, "I want you," in her ear.

Yeah, all that sends her tumbling over the edge.

"Oh my God, _yes,_ Twy, please don't stop…"Alexis gasps as Twyla returns her earlier bite with interest, nibbling on her ear and pressing kisses to her jaw; she can feel Twyla's smile right at the crook of her neck as she mixes in a lick to go with another white hot bite and she's dangerously close to sliding one of the straps of Twyla's nightgown right off her shoulder without asking for permission first. She scrabbles for the silk, feels it between her fingers, and one firm tug would just—

She freezes when Twyla looks up at her with unfocused, lust-blown eyes and a dreamy, semi-dazed smile sweeter than fresh maple syrup.

Every time Alexis thinks she's seen Twyla at her most beautiful, some other moment comes and displaces it, in an infinite circle, and she can't quite catch her breath for a second.

"Were you about to take this off for me?" Twyla asks softly, nodding at the strap in Alexis' hand. Her voice has a low, rough, almost jazzy timbre, worlds removed from how she usually sounds. Probably a side effect of being drunk on Alexis' kisses, of buzzing on the contact high of her ever-purposeful touches.

"If you'd like that. If you want me to," Alexis whispers, rubbing the silk between her fingers and automatically giving Twyla a soft kiss.

"Yes and yes," Twyla nods emphatically, maneuvering out from under Alexis in one lithe motion to kneel on the bed.

"Are you sure?" Alexis asks, her unsteady breathing mirroring her shaky hands skirting over Twyla's shoulders.

Twyla covers both of Alexis' hands with her own. She's nearly on fire and practically radiating need for Alexis already. But something about the way she asks again, the way she keeps eye contact, as if what they have should be protected and treasured, floods Twyla with warmth. Not lust, no (though Alexis is insanely attuned to her physical needs and desires already).

It's not full-on love, either; it's too soon for that. But it feels like something awfully close to it. Which should probably scare Twyla more than it does.

"Twy?"

She snaps out of her own head to the wonderful sight of Alexis gazing up at her, and she dips her head down to offer another kiss before pressing their foreheads together, nodding, and murmuring, "Yes. I'm sure, Alexis."

She hopes Alexis hears the extra meaning to those words—that she's sure about _them_ , that she most assuredly wants a future with her amazing girlfriend in it—and she thinks she does, as Alexis almost reverently pulls one strap off her shoulder, then the other, still keeping eye contact even as she slowly, gently kisses her way down to Twyla's breasts. She nearly melts into a puddle on the bed as Alexis cups her right breast with her hand and starts kissing the left one before biting her nipple and pulling back ever so slightly.

Twyla bites down hard on her lower lip to avoid letting out a moan that would undoubtedly echo all over the room. She doesn't want to look away from Alexis—she wants these images tattooed into her skull, deep behind her eyeballs, truthfully—but she automatically throws her head back in near ecstasy as Alexis keeps pleasing her.

"You taste divine, babe," Alexis whispers before kissing her way back up to Twyla's face with her lips parted, her tongue almost obscenely lolling out of her mouth.

Twyla's body reacts to the stimulus and the words before her mind does. She catches the tip of Alexis' tongue between her teeth, holding it there for a second, delighting in the squeak of shock she hears before gifting Alexis the filthiest French kiss she's ever offered anyone.

"Holy _fuck_ , Twy," Alexis whimpers, looking at her a touch wild-eyed as they draw back for breath, and Twyla knows she's at a perfect spot to push her advantage. She gently tips Alexis backwards and falls forward so she's on top of her, _finally,_ and giggles at the small victory.

She's tempted for a second to practically tear Alexis' little blue satin top off right then and there, but the craving to hear Alexis say "yes" to that plan wins out as she gazes down at her with what feels like an insatiable hunger.

But suddenly she and Alexis are kissing lazily, easily, yet again, and their endless ebb and flow between a passionate, desperate type of desire and a gentler, tender, more affectionate one feels perfect.

"Hey, babe?" she asks, grinning at the way Alexis smirks at her, knowing what's coming.

"What is it, hon?" Alexis parries back, savoring the taste of a new term of endearment on her tongue. Savoring, still, the taste of Twyla in her mouth.

"Do you want me to take this off for you?" She gives a gentle tug on Alexis' top.

"Yes, _please_ ," Alexis nods happily and lifts her arms as Twyla kisses the strip of exposed skin near her stomach, her hands roaming in circles around Alexis' thighs and hips before she reaches up and peels the sleep shirt over her head.

Alexis knows, almost objectively, that she's hot. With the guys she's been with in the past, she knows they all appreciated her body, too. Getting confirmation of one's attractiveness never hurts. But there's a difference between just turning someone on and making them feel seen, making them feel _wanted._ The way Twyla almost stares through her, the way she kisses and licks her way up Alexis' body as though she's made of fire, the way her touches alternate between rough and worshipful—they're all flawless examples of the latter.

But Twyla's gentle grinding against her and her teasing kisses all over are still definitely driving her up a wall. So she instinctively slides a hand down her shorts and finally feels just how wet she is for her girlfriend.

She can't stifle the gasp of shock, and Twyla smirks up at her as she swirls her tongue between Alexis' breasts. "You like?" she whispers in a mirror of Alexis' earlier question. Alexis simply nods, unable to use words, rubbing herself faster as Twyla gets the hint and slides off of her. She replays all of their kisses and touches in a hazy, lusty blur in her head, closing her eyes for a second to focus on a few specific moments and sensations. The feeling of Twyla biting her neck. The sparks that nearly consume them seconds before they start kissing.

Her eyes snap back open when she hears Twyla quietly moan next to her. She doesn't have to glance over to know what Twyla's doing, but she looks, just the same, to find Twyla's intense gaze bearing into her. To see her touching herself.

"Ohmygod, Twy," she murmurs in a rush, arching her back, sinking deeper into the mattress.

Alexis usually focuses a tad more on herself than her partner when she's yet to have her first orgasm, but watching Twyla mirror her pose, hearing her keening moans and low whispers of "Yes, yes, _yes"_ sends a shockwave to her clit.

Her brain works just long enough to consider if it'll be a turn on for Twyla, too, before she whispers, "I'm dripping wet for you, babe."

Hearing Twyla start to finger herself faster is all the confirmation she needs.

It doesn't hurt when Twyla chokes back, "Me too, Lex. You made me so. fucking. horny." Her voice comes out in a hoarse whisper, and she punctuates the last three words with a rougher, deeper thrust of her fingers into herself.

" _Good_ ," Alexis answers proudly with a guttural moan as she uses her free hand to play with her nipples and rubs circles around her clit a few more times before easily sliding two fingers back in and out of herself over and over. She can feel herself about to come undone seconds before Twyla murmurs, "Come for me, Alexis."

She does, hard enough that stars cloud her vision for a second, and her thighs are shaking as Twyla tries and fails to hold back a couple louder moans of her own.

Alexis rolls over and plants a clumsy kiss on her open mouth before urging her on. "Yes. Yes. I wanna watch you come for me, Twy."

"I want to, baby, I'm so close," Twyla whimpers, and she somehow holds Alexis' gaze as she finishes herself off in a fine frenzy.

They finally take a moment to catch their respective breaths, for the first time in what's felt like hours.

**

"So how was that ending for your first date with a woman?" Twyla asked after they'd cleaned themselves up, changed into fresh pajamas, and turned on the alarm clocks on their phones.

Alexis stretched and gave a contented sigh as she rolled over onto her back. "I feel like I need a cigarette. And I've never smoked, not even when I was on the run from black market fishermen in Thailand. So, we could go with incredible, mind-blowing, amazing, et cetera. Take your pick, Twy."

"I pick all of them," she answered happily, rolling onto her side to gaze at Alexis. "Both for the night and for describing you."

"Back at you, babe," Alexis replied, sealing her answer with a quick kiss.

"And I say, again, you are a terrifyingly good kisser," Twyla commented before stretching and yawning.

Alexis' laugh bubbled to the surface. "I could say the same for you, but…I'll go with devastatingly good."

Twyla hummed lightly in approval. "A devastatingly good kisser. I like that. I like you." She hesitated for a second before adding, "I really like you."

Alexis bobbed her head from side to side and sang, _"I really, really, really, really, really, really like you/And I want you/Do you want me? Do you want me, too?"_ before turning her puppy dog eyes on Twyla.

Twyla snorted and playfully bopped her with a pillow. "I think tonight proved that's a resounding yes for both of us."

"Absolutely," Alexis agreed. "I'm…I'm, like, stupidly happy to call you mine, honestly, Twy. Even though it's only been one day. I'm looking forward to what the future has in store for us."

Twyla pressed one more gentle kiss to her lips in response. "Same here. Now, as much as spending time with, talking with, and kissing you are some of my absolute favorite things to do, I think we need to get to sleep."

"Yeah," Alexis nodded, punctuating it with a yawn. "Night, babe."

"Night, darling," Twyla answered drowsily. "Sleep well."

"Oh, after the night I had, I'm going to, definitely," Alexis assured her, unable to stifle a giggle as Twyla shook her head and muttered affectionately, "You're so juvenile sometimes," before drifting off into a heavy sleep herself.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who left comments/kudos, thank you so much! This was the first fic I've posted in years and I loved writing Alexis and Twyla together. I'm thinking of doing a future Christmas fic for the two of them if that would pique anyone's interest.

Twyla emerged from her deep sleep in a bit of a haze, and though the realization that she'd be leaving New York City cut through her more quickly than she wanted, having Alexis snuggled up next to her and knowing they were on the start of a new journey together made it a tad more palatable.

" _You're really crazy about her, aren't you? After one date? With someone who lives in another country?"_ the more world-weary, cynical part of her brain noted, with increasing concern.

" _One date with more planned, thank you,"_ Twyla answered herself, a tad indignantly.

Did the thought of committing to her first-ever long-distance relationship frighten her sometimes? Honestly, yeah. There would be times when it would hurt, when she'd want Alexis next to her in person. And that would be unfamiliar, uncomfortable.

Twyla started imagining a future without that discomfort. A future where Alexis is just her best friend, nothing more. Where they skirt around their mutual attraction. Where they find other people to date. Where she maybe ends up with someone like Jason, the bartender from the Wobbly Elm, and Alexis marries some faceless hedge fund manager, and they eventually lose touch because, well, why wouldn't they?

It's like watching vibrant swatches of color vanish from her life and coalesce into a drab, uniform, sickly grey, and she nearly gags at the pain.

Alexis blinked her eyes open and rolled over when she heard Twyla's sharp intake of breath. "You ok, Twy?" she murmured sleepily.

Twyla pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to Alexis' forehead before wrapping her arms around her. "Yes and no," she whispered, willing some of the emotion to leave her voice.

"What's wrong?" Alexis asked, now wide awake.

"Oh, just my brain making me anxious for no reason over the whole long distance relationship thing," Twyla tried to laugh it off, but it rang hollow. She toyed with the idea of leaving it there, but didn't want Alexis to feel like she was having to pull her teeth to get answers, so she added, "And I just…I don't know, it's kind of scary to think about how much you already mean to me."

"Ok, to start with," Alexis paused and took in a deep breath, "I'm with you on that second part. It's fucking frightening to realize how important you are to me," she confessed. "And I don't think it's just a honeymoon phase. Like, I can't picture myself without you, babe."

"My brain sort of led me to doing exactly that. Playing out us not being together and what it might look like down the road, I mean. Which is why I basically just choked on air," Twyla admitted ruefully.

"Ok, so we're both clearly invested in this, in each other," Alexis went on softly. "And that's how we're going to make this work." She snuggled a bit closer to Twyla and tilted her head back to look up at her. "And with some planning. Admittedly, not always my strong suit. But I think having regular virtual date nights like, once a week—or maybe once every couple of weeks if we're super swamped with work sometimes—would do wonders."

Twyla nodded, feeling some of the anxiety drain out of her at that idea. "Like, making dinner together or having a mini book club."

"Exactly!" Alexis answered. "Or we could watch movies or shows, or go on virtual reality tours on Google Arts and Culture. Like, even though we're doing long distance, I'm still gonna date the fuck out of you, Twy."

"I've never heard that expression before," Twyla laughed, "but I'm completely looking forward to it. And I promise I'll do the same for you."

"Can't wait," Alexis murmured as she raised her finger up to boop Twyla. "You feeling a bit better?"

Twyla nodded and gave Alexis a quick kiss. "Much better. Thanks, Lex."

"Anytime!" she replied as she rolled out of bed. "I think I'm gonna go shower now. You're more than welcome to join, by the way. Just to conserve water, of course," she noted innocently.

"As much as I want to…" Twyla sighed as she got to her feet, as well. "We'd take way too long getting distracted with each other."

Alexis pouted for a second, but conceded, "Yeah, you're right."

As she walked away, Twyla added, "I'm totally taking a raincheck on that offer, though. And I thought of another virtual date night we could have. One that would be up your alley."

Alexis turned back, her interest piqued. "Ooh, what is it?"

"A virtual lingerie fashion show," Twyla called to her, wearing a mischievous grin.

"One, _yes_ ," Alexis nodded emphatically. "Two, you _really_ had to tell me that right before I get in the shower?"

Twyla's impish grin grew wider just before she blew Alexis a kiss. "Have fun thinking of me, babe."

Alexis reflexively answered, "I always do," under her breath as she walked away, and not in the way Twyla was implying.

Admitting that doesn't scare her too much anymore.

In a weird way, Alexis was glad for her collection of surreal life experiences. Compared to participating in deadly dinner parties, cult gatherings, occult ceremonies, and the like, meeting her best friend in a backwoods town her family once purchased as a joke wasn't all that weird.

Falling for Twyla as hard as she had wasn't exactly normal, sure. But if you're dating someone and you're not free-falling for them fast enough to make your pulse skyrocket once in a while, then, really, what's the point?

**

Breakfast was a muted affair for them, and time slipped away faster than they could trade kisses afterwards.

Twyla paused in the middle of reorganizing her clothes in her duffel bag, with Alexis quietly watching her after she'd retrieved her skater dress from Saturday night. As she grabbed her sleep shirt from their first night together, rather than folding it, Twyla asked herself, _"Is this really lame? Am I just a giant sap?"_

She doesn't care all that much that the answer to both of those questions is yes.

"Hey, Alexis?"

"Yeah, Twy?"

"This is probably super dorky, but would you want this sleep shirt?" She held out her old soccer shirt. "I know it's not really your style," she admitted. "The idea of leaving something of mine here seemed kind of nice to me, I don't know."

"Aww, babe, that's so sweet!" Alexis exclaimed. "Love the pajama swap idea. Here…" she hopped off her bed, strode over to her main dresser, and pulled open the bottom drawer to retrieve her Paramore sweatshirt. "You can have this."

"You spoil me," Twyla murmured contentedly as Alexis pressed the sweatshirt into her arms and kissed her.

"Because you're so completely, totally worth it," Alexis answered with a mega-watt smile. "Now, c'mon, once you finish up packing, we'll catch the subway to the airport."

Once Twyla had collected all her belongings and they made their way to the front door, she turned back with a look of longing, a small smile playing on her lips.

"What is it?" Alexis asked.

"Just thinking about everything that happened here this weekend," Twyla responded softly. "For as much as I enjoyed the murder mystery dinner party surprise on Saturday night, yesterday was even better, as far as surprises went. It was a _really_ great weekend of firsts."

"First kiss," Alexis murmured, licking her lips automatically at the memory.

"First date," Twyla added as she stood on tiptoe, her eyes sparkling, and Alexis' kisses hold a promise of more to come. Kisses, dates, memories, laughs, it doesn't matter; she wants all of it.

More visits to New York City, as well, to what already feels a tiny bit like a second home to Twyla. And it has everything to do with her spectacular best friend, her stunning girlfriend, whose eyes are glowing like she can read Twyla's mind.

Honestly, it wouldn't shock her if Alexis could.

They don't even have to look down to catch each other's hands seconds before they exit Alexis' apartment building and start their trek to the subway.

**

" _Keep it together, Lex,"_ Alexis whispered in her head as she and Twyla boarded the JFK Airtrain to get to the airport. _"You've been through way worse than this. Hell, you're not getting kidnapped, or robbed. Twyla's just going home for now."_

That sentence shouldn't hurt as much as it does. But, then, on the flip side, she shouldn't already be this crazy for Twyla, either.

Despite her past proclivity for flings, Alexis had come to guard her heart pretty closely once she started, well, actively caring about people. She and Ted had danced around their odd, quirky history for a long while, and she hadn't even instigated their re-coupling. Ted had done that, at the speed dating event of Singles Week.

She's not sure if it's just because she's always been comfortable with Twyla, or if it feels different because she has her shit together now. Because with Twyla, she can sense plenty of glimmers of meaning, somewhere. Maybe a future for them that's worth grasping, out there.

Remembering that Twyla actually sort of took the initial step in developing their relationship when she floated the idea of making a trip to New York back in July, Alexis felt it was only fair that she helped them take another one.

"Hey, Twy?" she asked as they departed the train with the tens of other passengers looking to take to the skies.

"Yeah, Lex?"

She considered not saying anything—not wanting to sound too eager to look to the future—but, fuck it, there's no use pretending that Twyla's done anything but add joyful splashes of color to the canvas of her life. She needs more of them. Maybe all of them. And she wants Twyla to know she's thinking a little long-term about their relationship, too. "I have a lot of vacation time from work that I haven't used yet. I think some of it's gonna go to, like, a family trip for Thanksgiving."

"Ok," Twyla nodded, looking a bit puzzled.

"But it would probably only be a long weekend, so I might just end up taking a couple days off, at most." She hurried along with what she wanted to say as Twyla's brow crinkled in confusion. "After that, though, I was thinking…"

Alexis took a deep breath, and the warm look Twyla gave her was more than enough to help her finish the rest of her sentence. "I'd love to spend Christmas with you in Schitt's Creek."

"I'd love that, too," Twyla answered warmly as she pulled Alexis into a tight hug.

Though they walked through the airport relatively slowly compared to when Twyla had initially arrived, they found themselves at the first security checkpoint all too soon.

"Have a safe flight, and text me when you land, okay?" Alexis whispered as she wrapped her arms around Twyla.

"Of course," Twyla nodded. "Thank you for everything this weekend, Alexis." She waited for a handful of people to pass by before giving her one final kiss and adding, "And thanks for being my girlfriend."

Alexis doesn't think she'll ever tire of hearing that sentiment from Twyla. "Thanks for the same, Twy," she whispered back, unable to resist holding onto her for one final kiss. "I'll catch up with you later."

Twyla gave her a watery smile and wave before entering the first security checkpoint, with Alexis watching her recede into the distance.

**

Alexis tried to avoid dwelling on how weird it felt to not be walking arm-in-arm with Twyla when she starts her solo journey back to the subway. She failed and decided, _"I deserve a bit of a wallowing meal,"_ and ended up at the Five Guys around the block from her apartment, ordering a little cheeseburger, a small fry, and a chocolate milkshake to go. She'd just started digging into the extra bottom-of-the-bag fries when she got a text from David.

_The only reason I haven't texted you a million times while you had your girl-fest with Twy is because my more considerate other half repeatedly told me not to. And we did throw a little Memorial Day party at the store yesterday, early enough in the day that not too many people were sloppy drunks. Since it's now Monday, though, I wanna hear all about your weekend! Where you two went, if you saw any shows, if there was anything interesting that happened._

She's not always sure how their Rose sibling telekinesis still works with them being somewhat far apart, but she's damn glad does. Because thinking about the best way to reply to David's message got Alexis to replay the many, _many_ Twyla-related highlights of the weekend in her head.

Twyla flirting with her when they arrived at the apartment building. Feeling her stomach swoop when she told Twyla she was beautiful and Twyla's eyes locked on her lips. Watching Twyla confidently, skillfully navigate her way through the farmers' market. Helping her get dolled up before they went out and eventually danced the night away. The excitement that shot through Alexis like a lightning bolt when she realized that the two of them were finally going to kiss yesterday morning.

The thoughts loosened the knot in her chest, and after washing the French fry grease off her hands, she texted David back.

_It was great! We went to the Strand and a farmer's market, saw a murder mystery dinner party, cooked together, visited the High Line, caught a movie. I think Twy appreciated getting to see some of the city without having us run ourselves ragged, you know? I got back from dropping her off at the airport a little while ago._

She pressed Send, then started typing a follow-up message.

_Sorry I didn't text you at all earlier this weekend, we were just pretty busy and out a lot. You know I don't really like using my phone much while I'm walking around the city since it's a bit of a distraction._

After a moment of deliberation, Alexis added to it.

_Plus I didn't want my new girlfriend to think I was ignoring her._

She tapped Send again, almost cackling as she watched David's reaction play out in real time. The ellipsis indicating that he was typing popped up and vanished four times in rapid succession before an incoming call message flashed on her screen.

She answered as casually as possible, holding the phone a bit away from her ear. "Yes, David?"

"Twyla's your _girlfriend_ now? You two are _dating_?!" he shouted, his yell a mix of surprise and glee.

Alexis laughed lightly at his response. "Well, typically, when someone's your boyfriend or girlfriend, you _do_ plan on dating them, yeah," she replied with a harmless touch of sarcasm.

She could hear him yelling, "Didn't I tell you? Didn't I say this was going to happen, like, last week?" at Patrick, and she cracked up before they got back on the line.

"Welcome to the dark side, Alexis!" Patrick called.

"Wait, why are we the dark side, hon?" David asked.

"It's, uh, it's just a Star Wars reference, David. Doesn't really mean anything."

"But words _do_ mean things, Patrick!" he insisted. "How would you like it if I started calling you Rick?" Alexis could almost see his face wrinkle in disgust. "Oh, God. I'm sorry, that sounds awful, I'm never doing that again."

Alexis giggled as Patrick gave a half-exasperated, half-amused sigh. "Anyway, I take it you had a good weekend, then, Alexis?" he asked.

"Yes. Very good," she confirmed, glad for Patrick offering up an easy question before David hopped back on the call.

"Can I just say, I'm really glad for both of you that this happened, because you and Twyla were _disgustingly_ domestic together when we were playing Jackbox," David commented.

Alexis felt herself blushing. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, it was an extremely obvious mutual attraction," Patrick added. "Lots of fawning looks. A somewhat drunk Stevie said to David, and I quote, 'Jesus Christ, how do you Roses get the few good ones in this town to look at you as if you hung the stars from the fucking night sky,' end quote."

Alexis missed the next bit of their conversation after asking them about how their party at the store went. Mostly because she was thinking to herself, _"Twyla's not one of the good ones. She's the best one of the best ones."_

**

Twyla had planned to swing by the café after she got home, but between her flight being delayed due to bad weather and her running into a whole mess of traffic on the way back to Schitt's Creek, she decided to pass and call it an early night, instead. The earlier storm had dissipated into a gentler drizzle, and the soothing soundtrack sped her off to sleep soon after she'd texted Alexis and her mom that she was safe and sound.

Between her years of getting up early for soccer, and then waitressing, Twyla's internal alarm clock typically woke her up by about 8:30 at the latest, so she was surprised to find she'd slept in until a few minutes after nine.

She was less surprised to wake up to a text that Alexis had sent her about half an hour earlier, but it made for a sunny start to her day, just the same.

_Good morning, gorgeous! Sorry your journey home royally sucked, hope you're still fast asleep when you get this. I'm helping to interview a couple of potential interns for the marketing department today, which is a cool responsibility, but I'm a bit worried since I'm not always the most buttoned up and corporate person here. Ya girl will do her best though!_

After mulling over a few different options, Twyla texted her back.

_Good morning, babe! I was out almost as soon as I finished dinner last night and I feel so much better now. You're gonna be great—Interflix obviously knows you led a ton of the Break the Safe promotions and those were a big success. Just be your witty, creative self, and I'm sure you'll help find some promising interns._

After showering, throwing together a quick breakfast, and making her personal shopping list, Twyla hopped in her car to head over to the café. Though she missed Alexis already, being back in her element did bring a sense of comfort. The fact that she had one more day before having to return to the swing of customer service didn't hurt, either. She smiled as her phone chimed with a new message from Alexis.

_Day's super busy but thx for the confidence boost Twy, first interview went well! Xoxo_

After scribbling a thank you note to George for leaving a good inventory of what the café needed—they'd started making wholesale purchases earlier that spring to handle increased traffic, but they still made regular grocery runs for extra stock or to get local ingredients—Twyla was interrupted in leaving when her phone rang.

She gave a little sigh when she saw the call was from her mother before swiping up on the green phone icon. "Hello?"

"Twyla? That you?"

"Yeah, mom," she answered after a beat.

"Hi, sweetie. Um, I'm not sure if she told you, but Angela mentioned something about you coming over for dinner sometime this week," her mom went on hesitantly. "I talked to her on Sunday morning, I think?"

"Oh, yeah, she did," Twyla replied, cottoning on.

"Would—would you be available tonight? If that's not too much trouble?"

"No, tonight's fine," Twyla half-lied; she'd been hoping for one more quiet day, but on the other hand, she'd definitely rather catch her mom in a more lucid state. Knowing it was easiest to make executive decisions, she asked, "What do you think about having stuffed bell peppers with some Mexican rice? I could prep everything and bring the peppers and the meat and veggie filling over."

"Oh, that sounds delightful—a little spin on Taco Tuesday," her mom commented. "But it doesn't make sense for you to make dinner and come to me. I'll stop by your place. And you'll have to tell me about your trip to New York City tonight; Angela filled me in about that, too."

"Yeah, for sure," Twyla responded honestly, feeling a small smile tugging at her lips as she thought, _"It's so nice when she has a good day."_

"Would you be able to come over around 5:30 or so?" Twyla asked.

"Sure, 5:30 tonight works for me," her mom answered. "Let me just write that down," she added, and Twyla heard the sound of a pen scratching in the background. "Alright, I'll see you then, hon."

"Sounds good, mom. Love you, bye."

She added peppers, ground beef, and Mexican cheese to her personal shopping list. Fortunately, not too many people were out and about during the middle of the morning on Tuesday. As Twyla worked her way through the produce section, she heard someone call her name.

"Oh, hey, Patrick," she greeted him as she weighed her peppers. "Did you and David have a nice Memorial Day?"

"Yeah, we did," he responded with a small nod and a smile. "We hosted a little get-together at the store and it actually went better than we expected, but also took up more time than we had planned. So, I'm here while David holds down the fort today, but it should be pretty quiet. Did you enjoy your trip?"

"Oh, I'm sorry I missed it—but yeah, I had a great time, it was really nice to catch up with Alexis. And visit New York City, I hadn't ever been before," she tagged on quickly, blushing a bit.

"Alexis filled us in," Patrick commented as they each guided their carts toward the meat section.

"Ah, I see," Twyla answered, frozen not just by the chill of the industrial fridge cases, but also by indecision. She and Patrick were friendly, of course, but they'd never had any real need to confide in one another before.

" _Well, David probably asked Alexis a ton of questions, so Patrick might know about us. And besides, he's always seemed like a good guy. Plus I'm now dating his sister-in-law, so..."_ Twyla thought to herself before asking hesitantly, "Um, Patrick?"

"Yeah?" he replied as they inspected ground beef to purchase.

"Do you have any advice on how to date a Rose?" she blurted out. "Sorry," she fumbled on, "I don't even know if Alexis said anything, but I guessed…"

He smiled at her. "You guessed right. David wanted to text her some, ah, pointed questions during the weekend about why she wasn't giving him updates while you were there. I told him not to until yesterday. I think he reached out to Alexis after you'd left."

"We werereally busy," Twyla answered a touch defensively, and Patrick's eyebrows rose a tad in response. "Not like that," she rolled her eyes.

"No, I know," he reassured her. "While I love David dearly, and he is an amazing husband, he can sometimes be…" he paused, searching for the right term.

"A little bit extra?" Twyla suggested.

Patrick chuckled at that. "Yes. Between the two of us, you're with the much lower maintenance Rose," he confided.

"As for advice for dating a Rose…" Patrick clicked his pen a couple of times before crossing off a few items from his list. "I'd say extra communication is key," he noted. "There are sometimes little things with David that you or I could handle pretty easily that they may get hung up on. I don't mean to play psychologist," he went on, "but from getting to know both of them, I think they didn't necessarily have the chance to work through growing up with sort of absent parents."

Twyla nodded thoughtfully as she recalled Alexis describing how other parents had enrolled her and David in "normal kid" activities during the summer. "Yeah, I can see that."

"And that's not to say that it's a huge issue or anything," Patrick added on, and Twyla appreciated the kindness. "Just something I've picked up on here and there. They…they've really made something of themselves, haven't they?" he added admiringly.

"Yeah, absolutely. That's kind of what got me to start paying more attention to Alexis in the first place," she confessed.

They were about to split up by the dairy section when Twyla said softly, "Hey, thanks for letting me ask about that, Patrick."

He smiled and nodded. "No problem. By the way…" he gave her a somewhat sheepish grin. "I've heard Alexis on the phone with David here and there. You come up in their conversations a lot."

Twyla willed the color to subside from her cheeks. It didn't work at all. "I do?"

Patrick nodded. "She thinks the world of you, Twyla. Has for a while now."

"Well, the feeling's mutual," she answered warmly, ducking away toward the shredded cheese display so Patrick couldn't see her grinning like a dumbass.

As she reflected on their conversation, Twyla realized she hadn't really considered telling her mom that she and Alexis were dating; part of her thought it was too soon.

" _But, then again,"_ she deliberated, _"it's hard to decipher when she'll be at her best, mentally, so maybe it would be best to do it today. I'd hate to miss that chance for a while."_

Twyla still felt a tiny twinge of anxiety at the idea of speaking her relationship with Alexis into existence with her family—frankly, she rarely had any need to do so with her past boyfriends.

" _None of them are remotely like Alexis,"_ she reminded herself, and what Patrick had shared helped put her mind at ease, too.

She pulled up her phone after she finished her shopping and cashed out to text Alexis.

_Hey, babe, could you send me that one really cute pic we took on Saturday before our night out? No rush if you're still busy, just when you have a minute._

Her phone chimed with the requested photo and a message from Alexis just as she finished putting the groceries away at the café.

_You meant this one where we totally look like a couple and somehow didn't realize it at the time? Lol. By the way, hope your day is going well!_

Twyla chuckled at the description, but it was definitely accurate; she could practically feel their warmth for each other radiating through the photo.

 _It is,_ she texted Alexis back after doing a touch of cleaning in preparation for their reopening tomorrow. _Just went on a grocery run, tidied up the café a bit, and I'm making dinner for my mom tonight. Stuffed bell peppers._

 _Love that for you two!_ Alexis responded. _How is she doing? Please tell her I say hi!_

 _She's doing better today than she was over the weekend. Didn't mistake me for Angela when she called earlier, so, I'll take that, for sure. And I'll be sure to tell her you said hello,_ Twyla promised.

**

Once she'd returned home and sorted out her own groceries, Twyla decided a fairly low-key rest of the afternoon was in order before she had to start dinner. She did a spot of yoga, made a bit more headway in _My Best Friend's Exorcism,_ and even had time to take a power nap before the late afternoon rolled around. Glad that her mom had changed their initial plans—prepping everything ahead of time, transporting the peppers to her mom's house, topping them with cheese, and reheating them would have been a pain, even though they were only separated by roughly a ten-minute drive—Twyla started in on the recipe and pulled up one of her usual cooking playlists on Spotify.

She'd just finished cleaning all the seeds out of the peppers and had put them in the oven to soften up when Boy's "Seven Little Numbers" came on. The song jolted her thoughts back to New York City immediately, and Twyla could practically feel Alexis' lips on her cheekbone, her arms wrapped around her waist as they made dinner together. She lingered in the bittersweet sensations for a second before an idea popped into her head.

She paused her music, swiped up to Spotify's search bar, and typed "Alexis Rose" into it. After a few seconds of scrolling, she found Alexis' Spotify page, complete with playlists ranging from "Rise and Grind" to "Empire Building" to "My Totally Rad, Better Than David's Party Playlist" (Twyla snorted at that one) to, finally, what she was looking for: "Kitchen Tunes."

" _It's a bit more eclectic than what I'd normally put on, to be honest,"_ Twyla reflected as she added ground beef to a pan, salted and peppered it, and started breaking it into small pieces with a spatula as it heated up. The playlist swung a hair wildly from the edgy rock of Cherry Glazerr and Honeyblood to Angus and Julia Stone's laid-back indie to Beach House's synth-laden dream pop while Twyla chopped up onions and garlic, added them to the pan, and started sautéing them. But having a little touch of her girlfriend's taste in the kitchen helped ease the ache of missing her more than Twyla wanted to admit, since then she'd need to acknowledge just how quickly she'd gotten accustomed to Alexis' physical presence.

Since the Sands' family history was littered with addiction (gambling, drinking, or smoking, take your pick), Twyla couldn't help but wonder if she was going down that path herself, in a way, with how she nearly craved the sound of Alexis' laugh, to hear the smile in her voice as they flirted.

 _"You can think about that later when you're not in the middle of making dinner,"_ she told herself as she sampled the mixture, giving a satisfied hum of approval before adding in the rice, tomato sauce, a pinch of taco seasoning, and a couple handfuls of Mexican cheese to complete the stuffing. She turned the heat down, not wanting it to dry out too much, when her phone buzzed with a text from her mom.

_I'll be over a little bit before 5:30 if that's alright?_

Twyla glanced at the timer on her fridge and turned it off just before it started beeping. Once she'd pulled the peppers out of the oven and let them rest to drain a bit, she texted back, _Sure, that's fine. I'm just about to start baking the peppers and the stuffing._

Twyla carefully spooned the mixture in to each of the four peppers and slid her Pyrex casserole dish back into the oven. She and her mom would probably only each have one, but she could easily take the leftovers for dinner during her later café shifts at the end of the week.

"Door's open!" Twyla called when her mom arrived about twenty minutes later. "Hi, mom." She managed to shoot a smile her way as she retrieved the dish from the oven and uncovered the peppers.

"Hi, sweetie." Her mom gave an appreciative sniff. "Ooh, dinner smells amazing!"

"Thanks," Twyla beamed as she grabbed the bag of Mexican cheese from the fridge. "Should be ready in about ten minutes," she added as she sprinkled a generous portion of cheese over top of the peppers before sliding the tray back into the oven. "Can I get you a water, or I think I have some iced tea or seltzers?" She hates how her voice always spikes up extra sharply at the end of questions when her mom's around, a clear sign of her nervous energy, but she's never been able to help it.

"Regular water would be fine, Twyla, thanks."

They made idle small talk about the café, the weather, and how the town's annual Memorial Day parade had been while they waited for the cheese to melt. Twyla impatiently checked them before the ten minute mark, happily noting that they were all set already before dishing them up.

"Twyla, these are great!" her mom exclaimed once they took their first bites after waiting a couple of minutes for the piping hot peppers to cool.

"Mmhmm," Twyla nodded. "We added them at the café recently and people have been enjoying them even more than we'd hoped."

"Sounds like things are good at the café, then. Have you had to work at all since you got back from your trip?"

Twyla shook her head and her mom followed up with, "I almost forgot, tell me all about how you liked New York City! Angela had mentioned you were there, what, Friday to Monday?"

"Yeah," Twyla nodded. "It was…" she chewed thoughtfully for a minute and swallowed. "It was a little overwhelming, at first," she admitted. "But once I got a bit more used to how fast life is there, it got a lot better."

"And you were visiting your friend…Alexandra, was it?" her mom asked.

"Alexis," Twyla gently corrected her. She grabbed her phone and opened it to their picture before sliding it across the table to her mom.

"Very cute!"

Once Twyla had finished recounting how they'd visited the Strand and the farmer's market, how Alexis had surprised her with the tickets to the murder mystery dinner theater, her mom commented, "Sounds like you two had quite the weekend."

"We did," Twyla nodded, pausing for a second before continuing, "We're actually dating now."

"Well," her mom answered after a moment, "Alexis must be very important to you if you're telling me about her. I know I haven't always been the most involved parent," she apologized, "but I _do_ check up on you from time to time, with help from the rest of the family, and I've heard some of the guys you'd been with recently were kinda duds. No offense," she added, but Twyla was already laughing at the description.

"It's fine. And yes, Alexis means a lot to me," Twyla replied softly. "More than anyone I've dated has in a really long time."

"She makes you happy?"

Twyla felt herself blushing at the question and took a bite of her pepper for an excuse as to why she could only nod enthusiastically.

Her mom reached across the table and gave Twyla's shoulder a squeeze. "Good. If she ever causes any trouble, though, you've got plenty of family members that'll tell her off, remember."

"Mom," Twyla rolled her eyes. "She says hi, by the way."

"I'm just kiddin, she sounds great, from what you've told me about her," her mom replied. "And if she's ever back in town around the holidays, she's more than welcome to meet at least some of us. Maybe not everyone at once—wouldn't wanna scare her away."

Twyla chuckled at that. "Alexis can handle herself; she has some pretty interesting stories that stack up with a lot of ours. And thanks, I think she'll be excited to hear that."

"I'm really happy for you, Twyla," her mom noted once they finished up dinner. "Seems like you're doing well for yourself. Good to see you. Don't be a stranger."

"Thanks, mom, I am. And we'll have to do this again soon," Twyla commented.

Alexis had texted her back at the tail end of their meal. _Those look delish, Twy! How'd dinner with your mom go?_

_Better than I thought it would. I told her you said hi and she says you're more than welcome to meet some of the Sands clan if you'd be up for that over Christmas. There's kind of a lot of us._

_Aww you told her about us! She took the news well, then?_

_Yeah. I mean, I figured she would, but it was nice to have confirmation, you know?_

_Definitely,_ Alexis replied.

Alexis paused, fingers hovering over her keyboard, wondering when she'd become such a total softie before she typed out her next message. She could once easily go hours, days, weekends, even weeks without responding to an object of her affection. She could dish out calorie-free compliments and hollow hook-up lines without an ounce of effort.

And yet, she's never been happier to be so far removed from those vapid days.

_Could we chat later on tonight, like, before we go to sleep? I only just got home a little while ago and need to relax for a bit and then throw together dinner, but I miss hearing your voice._

Alexis tried and failed to ignore just how much it improved her mood when she read Twyla's response.

_Sure! That sounds like the perfect end to my day, babe._

With that to look forward to, Alexis prepared her white cheddar chicken salad with more gusto than she'd anticipated, and the rest of her evening went by in a blink. She checked the time after she'd changed into her pajamas.

" _I'd guess that a bit after 9:30 constitutes bedtime for Twyla, at least during the week,"_ she thought before calling her.

Twyla answered after a couple of rings. "How's my favorite girl?"

"Better now that I'm talking to you."

After a few seconds, Twyla murmured, "It's nice to hear your voice, Lex. I feel like I can see you better."

Alexis nodded. "Totally agree."

"So, you might be interested to know I ran into Patrick while I was grocery shopping today."

Alexis could hear a little bit of a teasing lilt in Twyla's voice and she ran in its direction. "Did you, now? How's he doing?"

"He's good. It sounded like he and David had a really successful Memorial Day weekend party at the store."

"Yeah, they mentioned that when I talked to them yesterday," Alexis noted.

"Patrick said that you and David chat pretty regularly." Twyla waited a second before noting, "He also mentioned that you think the world of me." Her voice dropped to a low whisper, giving Alexis flashbacks to what she'd sounded like in bed. "I'm just curious—is that a direct quote, or an inference, or was he paraphrasing?"

"I'd say it was an inference," Alexis answered after a moment's hesitation. "I mean, I told David and Patrick about us, with rather a lot of detail about how everything happened. You know how David can be a lot to handle, sometimes."

Twyla laughed. "Yes, yes I do."

"But Patrick is totally right. I mean, you're my best friend, now my girlfriend. You're my person, babe."

No response.

Alexis pulled the phone away from her ear to make sure the call hadn't dropped. "Hello?"

"Oh, sorry, sweetheart. I was just enjoying the fact that I have _the_ Alexis Rose more or less wrapped around my finger," Twyla murmured. "Got a little lost in my thoughts."

"Well, _someone's_ pleased with herself, isn't she?" Alexis teased.

"Duh, I've got you," Twyla rejoined easily. "And it sounds like you had a great day at work, so, tell me all about it!"

"Management told me I'd probably be considered as part of, like, a mentoring team for a couple of interns," Alexis answered. "There are some more interviews for other areas of the company, and I might not be involved with those ones as much, but I'll have a voice in some of the projects our interns work on and help guide them when I can."

"That sounds awesome, babe! I'm so proud of you."

"Th-thanks," Alexis yawned. "Oh, jeez, sorry, didn't mean to yawn right in your ear."

"It's ok, I think I'm nearly ready to get to sleep myself. I'm working front of the house from 8-12 and then I'm meeting with some contractors Ronnie knows about putting new upholstery in the booths in the afternoon, so it's gonna be a bit of a long day."

"Ooh, look at you making moves, miss small business owner," Alexis responded proudly.

"Just trying to harness my inner girl boss like someone I know," Twyla replied before adding, through a yawn, "This was really nice, Alexis. Can we make end of the night phone calls a regular thing?"

"Absolutely! Love that idea, Twy. Best of luck with your project tomorrow, good night."

"Thanks, sweetheart," Twyla answered warmly. "Good night to you, too."

**

Alexis was a bit surprised at how easily she and Twyla settled into a long-distance relationship rhythm within their first week or so of officially dating. Their days usually involved a handful of texts while they were at work, sometimes a few more during the day if Twyla wasn't on a regular 9-5 shift, plus the occasional amusing Snapchat, like the video Alexis took of her co-worker celebrating when the vending machine spit out three free Twix bars. And they had almost nightly calls with each other, except for the occasional day when a late morning to dinner shift or having to clopen turned Twyla into a zombie.

They'd just planned out a book club date night for that Friday—Alexis was thrilled she'd have an actual reason to avoid staying out too late after this week's happy hour because, while she couldn't really keep up with the youths like she used to, that didn't always stop them from cajoling her into going to one more bar or club—when Twyla texted her, _Remind me to tell you Stevie's story about trying to teach your dad to use Zoom for virtual tours of some properties. She said it gave her a whole new respect for teachers._

"Oh, shit," she gasped.

Alexis hadn't meant to forget to tell her parents that she and Twyla were dating, but between her own work, her mom starring in the Sunrise Bay reboot, and her dad playing a leading role in establishing a boutique motel empire, they'd all been more or less radio silent that week.

She quickly dashed off a group text to just the two of them. _Hello, lovely parents. Would you both be available to talk this Friday night?_

She figured it was a bit of a long shot and she might have to wait a while for a response, especially with her mom's crazy film shooting schedule, but they'd each answered with a "yes" by the end of that Wednesday.

Staying true to her thoughts from earlier in the week when Friday rolled around, Alexis only planned to go out to the first stop of her colleagues' proposed bar crawl. And Alexis definitely wasn't anywhere close to drunk during the happy hour, but she hit that perfect spot of lightly buzzed where no one has any sharp edges and her one gin and tonic has her feeling warm like hot fudge when it's at a perfect temperature.

Or maybe that feeling's from Twyla reacting to an earlier snap of her rocking her new blazer and mini skirt with a text of, _Damn, you look good enough to eat, babe._

"So is this mystery guy you're talking to the reason you can't go out with us tonight?" her work bestie, Jenna, asked as she skirted around the IPA-sipping interns.

Alexis shook her head as she caught the bartender's eye to get her tab closed.

"Nope," she replied. "Gotta chat with my parents and then I've got a date to keep with my girlfriend."

She'd spent some time figuring out how exactly to tell people—and whether or not she should tell them now—but as the words came out, she took a deep breath and felt something settle in her chest.

"I'll tell you more about her later, kay?" she added as she strode confidently out of the bar, turning a few heads in her wake. Knowing how to make an exit was, like, easily a top ten skill Alexis had cultivated as a boss babe.

Thankfully, they'd picked a bar somewhat close to her apartment—well away from their office to mitigate the odds of running into any of Interflix's higher-ups during a night of revelry—and given the more temperate fall weather, she decided to walk the three blocks or so, enjoying the early-evening sunshine while she could as the calendar flipped toward October.

She texted Twyla to let her know she'd arrived home safely, then messaged her parents to call her when they were free. Her phone buzzed with their incoming call a few minutes later.

"Hi, guys. How's Los Angeles?"

"Pretty good, thanks for asking, Alexis," Johnny replied. "We're in the middle of a bit of a heat wave, but other than that, no complaints."

"John, this is not just _a bit_ of a heat wave, this is a solar affront to the city's collective san-i-ty!" Moira cried.

"Be that as it may," he dryly remarked, "at least we've got air conditioning and it should cool off within the next week or so. What did you want to talk to us about, Alexis?"

"I just wanted to tell you that Twyla and I are together," she responded firmly. "We've been dating since she visited on Labor Day weekend."

"Well…thank you for sharing that with us, Alexis," Johnny answered first. "You know this doesn't change anything from our end—we love you."

"No matter what," Moira added. "And the two of you are happy together?"

Alexis nodded and took a shaky breath. "Yeah. Yeah, we are," she managed, blinking back tears for a second. "Sorry," she went on. "I'm just kind of surprised at how easily you guys are taking this in."

Johnny chuckled. "We did raise David, you know." He sighed after that. "We didn't always support you kids the best we could when you were younger, though, and we still regret that, especially because we weren't exactly there for David when he came out to us."

"But that was never because we didn't accept who he was," Moira explained further. "We were just miserable, absentee parents."

Alexis frowned a bit. "Thank you…I think?"

"If I may say so, we've gotten much better at the whole being a family thing since then," Johnny interjected. "Other than trying to organize game nights."

Alexis laughed at that as her mom spoke up again.

"I just mean…we'll support you however you identify. We realized later on, with David, that he hadn't quite figured everything out himself when he first told us he was gay," Moira continued. "And if you find out later on that you're in a similar position, we'll still be here for you. Always."

"Thanks," Alexis whispered softly.

"Was there anything else you wanted to tell us?" Johnny asked.

"No, that was pretty much it. Just wanted to give you that little update."

She could hear her dad's smile in his voice. "Thank you for sharing that with us, Alexis."

"You know, I always thought I could detect a certain energy between you and Twyla once the two of you became closer friends," Moira commented. "And you spent, gosh, probably a hundred hours together at the café over the years."

Feeling that it was best to close things off at the nice, wholesome ending before her mom made it too weird, Alexis pointed out, "Well, there weren't many other places to visit in Schitt's Creek. And Twy and I actually have a virtual date night later—we've started a little book club together, just the two of us, sort of? So I'm gonna get going now." She softened her tone a touch. "Thank you both, again, so much. Love you."

"We love you, too," they answered before she hung up her phone.

She had a new notification from Twyla. _I just got My Best Friend's Exorcism out, so I'm ready for our reading date night when you are. Because nothing says romance like demonic possession!_

Alexis cracked up at that and was about to text Twyla back when she decided to make a digital detour.

She hardly posted on Instagram anymore, but this was a special occasion.

Grinning at what she'd just done, she texted Twyla, _I've gotta grab The Guest List and then I'm all yours._ _Really,_ _I'm always all yours, babe. By the way, you should check your Insta. There's a surprise waiting for you._

"Huh, ok," Twyla muttered to herself as she read Alexis' latest message. Per her girlfriend's marketing advice, she'd launched business-centered social media accounts months ago to "grow the Café Tropical brand," but she hadn't checked her personal Instagram account in at least a couple of weeks.

Twyla tapped the notification that came up, which read, @ _AlexisRose has tagged you in a photo._

A wide smile broke out over her face as she recognized the photo, the one that had seemingly become their mutual favorite, from that Saturday night before they'd gone out.

She scrolled down, noticing that Alexis had included a caption, and started reading.

_Some really important life lessons I've learned from my best friend over the past several years:_

_Family and community are everything._

_If you can make one person smile, then you had a good day._

_Hold on to hope if you've got it, because you never know where it may lead._

_If you're lucky enough to count Twyla Sands— ascending small business owner, Tarot card reader extraordinaire, and all-around lovely human—as a friend, she's probably taught you these lessons, too, just through how she lives her life._

_More recently, she helped me confirm a very personal truth about myself. I debated about how to best say this for a while, but, anyway…_

_I'm here, I'm queer. If you can't tell from the new pic, I'm also happily taken, and my girlfriend is beautiful (sorry not sorry for how sappy this is @TropicalTwyla)._

Twyla had been trying to figure out if they'd been "official" long enough to declare it on social media—not that she really used any of them besides Snapchat outside of a work capacity, but it was a semi-traditional part of modern relationships. It wasn't one that she ever thought she'd care about, but the depth behind Alexis' post had her considering how to best respond in kind.

After crafting her own Instagram post, Twyla texted Alexis back.

_You're too sweet to me. P.S. I'm dedicating my first Insta post in like a month plus to you, you're welcome._

Alexis eagerly tapped the notification when it popped up and scrolled down to Twyla's message.

_If you know me well, you might know I'm not the biggest fan of surprises, because I experienced some doozies as a kid (like having one of my mom's rando boyfriends try to play firecracker baseball in our backyard). But I've encountered a bunch in the past few years, and most of them have changed my life for the better._

_Like meeting a down on their luck family who'd purchased Schitt's Creek as a joke, and ended up building a life here out of some pretty crazy circumstances._

_Like having the snazzy, fashion-forward socialite of the bunch (sorry, David, I'm talking about Alexis) go from being a café regular, to my friend, to my best friend._

_Like planning a vacation with my best friend and having her become my girlfriend._

_Ok, truthfully, that last one wasn't as much of a surprise, but it's been incredible, amazing, mind-blowing, etc._

_Thank you for making New York City feel like a home away from home and thank you even more for being mine, @AlexisRose._

Alexis FaceTimed Twyla the second she finished reading what she'd written.

"Hey, you," Twyla answered in a sultry tone. A tone, Alexis noted with pleasure, that was reserved for her ears only.

"We're, like, painfully adorable sometimes as a couple, aren't we?" Alexis asked. "And I love that you referenced what I said to you on Sunday night."

Twyla pondered the question for a second. "Honestly…more like adorkable, maybe?"

"We _are_ having a virtual date night of reading together," Alexis agreed, though it wasn't a criticism at all. Really, save for Twyla being next to her on her couch, she couldn't want for anything at the moment.

"Well," Twyla gave a contented sigh, as the rustle of pages told Alexis she'd opened her novel, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Me, either," Alexis beamed.

With that, they sank into their respective books, mirroring the same unconscious ease with which they'd fallen for each other.


End file.
